


Long Haul

by IndelibleSpock



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Angst, Chronic Illness, Eventual Spirk, Fear of Death, Happy Ending, M/M, Mentions of Death, Quarantine, Spock is a Good Friend (Star Trek), author is projecting onto James T. Kirk, the author is definitely not a doctor, yes this is a covid fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:40:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 43,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27099757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndelibleSpock/pseuds/IndelibleSpock
Summary: James Kirk is struck with a debilitating disease. Through it all, there is always one person there for him; his faithful first officer.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Comments: 45
Kudos: 84





	1. Oh no.

**Author's Note:**

> It was inevitable. Covid!Fic. Rated explicit because well, it's 2020 and considering the topic material I don't want to accidentally hurt people who may have their own disturbing experiences with this virus.
> 
> I have long covid. A disability that was JUST recognized by the WHO and even then there's so little known about it. 223 days and counting. I got back into writing fanfic/originals because I need something of my former life to grasp on to. So this is very much for myself and trying to explore what the fuck happened to me. 
> 
> This is my personal situation that only in my own fantasy world can I make it turn out SO MUCH BETTER and focus on the positives. /sob story

It started with this weird nagging rolling headache. Like waves rolling onto a quiet beach. Not enough to cause alarm, but it was there and it was annoying. Medicine would only take the edge away, maybe it was fully gone for an hour or two, but the tension was still there. The headache wouldn’t fucking leave.

He even turned down Spock’s invitation to a chess game. He was too tired, and the headache made it hard to focus. Maybe it was stress. They were in a new sector that was hardly charted. Plus the last planet they visited had a viral outbreak. Thankfully no one on the ship came down with anything and the planet’s government supplied The Enterprise with vaccines and testing equipment. There were too many unknowns in this sector to keep his guard down and fully enjoy his off hours.

Since there wasn’t much going for the ship at the moment, he decided to take a rare day off. Sleep. Just sleep. Sixteen hours of sleep and a good meal. It seemed to have worked. He felt good that morning when Spock checked in.

They came up on an M-Class planet. After scanning multiple times, Spock suggested to beam down. Spock, himself, and Sulu; they’d take a stroll and see what it’s like. If anything they’d mark it for stellar cartography’s sake.

“This place is pretty serene,” Sulu remarked as he admired the purple sky. It was laden with storm clouds in the distance. Deep blue cotton balls rained down far off in the valley below.

“Then I guess we need to be extra careful. Every time we come into contact with paradise, something ends up going wrong,” Kirk shared in Sulu’s admiring though. The planet had a charm. It was a beautiful mountainous country they were in, they decided on this part of the planet because it was the least extreme of the ecosystems present. A mega-Earth, it could be deemed, by early scans. Few differences, but it did have a familiarity.

“Hmm, like the cougar-like creature that’s been following us,” Spock mused. His tricorder had been working consistently during this time, picking up every little image.

“Did you say cougar?” Kirk turned around, expecting a large cat to jump out at them.

“Behind those trees beyond the clearing,” Spock lowered his voice.

“We should move swiftly, and probably pick up some rocks along the way.” Sulu finally caught a glimpse of the animal. It wasn’t what he imagined, but it was a large cat-like creature. “We’d have to worry about this all time when we’d go hiking. At least cougars on Earth never really stalked people unless they were desperate. But just know that you might need to throw a rock or two to scare it away.”

“Alright, then let’s scare it and get the hell out of this place. Clearly we’re not welcome in its space,” Kirk analyzed the area to find the nearest projectile.

He threw the rock and the three of them started to run down the closest thing that could be called a trail. Embedded rocks, fallen tress, lichen and slippery moss were all obstacles, but they only needed to run a short distance to at least broaden their sphere of safety.

They finally stopped after a half mile at Kirk’s request. He wasn’t a runner, he’d do it, and he could run well. And if he had enough mental preparation he could run for a long time. But today the short sprint depleted his energy.

“Are you okay, Captain?”

He shook it off and blamed it on oversleeping the previous day. Then again he woke up incredibly refreshed. Probably because of that stupid headache. Which returned, by the way.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little winded.” He took a deep breath and grinned. “It’s been a while since we’ve had some adventures, huh?”

“Considering we keep getting advisories on how weird it’s supposed to be out in this sector, it’s nice to beam down to a planet and feel a little bit at home.” Sulu looked around once more. The forest was covered in beautiful greens. The air was crisp. It was like walking around in the Olympic Forest again.

“Couldn’t say it better, Lieutenant.” Kirk nodded. “And I guess if we wanted to get Commander Spock a taste of home, we could beam on over to a desert.”

“How courteous to consider me, Captain,” Spock cocked an eyebrow. He really didn’t care, but he’d humor Kirk.

The three of them spent four Earth hours scanning and exploring. Sulu continued to tell stories about some of his hikes in the Rockies and the trips his family would take to Yosemite when he was a kid. Kirk wished he had a family like Sulu’s growing up.

“I was left to my own devices as a kid. Got into a lot of shit. Any exploring I did was alone and I probably would have gotten my ass beat if they found out.”

“Breaking into more houses,” Sulu teased.

“It was one house and I could have sworn everyone was drunk when I admitted-“ He eyed Sulu, “How sober have you been when I drunkenly admit things at parties?”

“Sober enough.”

Spock was bemused by the conversation. James Kirk was known to be far more relaxed with personal conversations while on away missions. Nevertheless, Spock still found it interesting to hear a captain and lieutenant speak so candidly to one another.

“To be fair captain it does not take much alcohol for you to start mouthing off,” Spock added.

“Did you just call me a light weight?”

“Commander Spock definitely called you a light weight.”

Spock was satisfied with the elicited response.

Kirk was going to respond, but a wave of fatigue hit him. He didn’t want to draw any more worry especially from his first officer. The last week Spock was glancing over at him more often. He merely rolled his eyes and sighed.

They beamed back to the Enterprise where the three of them agreed the planet was worth more exploration. Each major ecosystem would have a group of three exploring and taking down information. He wanted to limit the amount of personnel beaming down since new planets were automatically under quarantine status. The bio filters didn’t need the unnecessary stress nor did McCoy’s crew in sickbay.

Spock noted that Kirk yawned four times on their way back to the bridge and another two times in the turbo lift. He also noted how exhausted Kirk looked.

“Captain, may I make a suggestion?”

It wasn’t that Kirk didn’t like Spock making suggestions. It was normally a welcomed thing. But all he’d been doing for the past hour was double checking all the information they collected from the planet and routine administrative duties. What possible suggestion could Spock make?

“Uh, yeah? Go for it.”

He drew closer to his captain. “Sir, you look as though your energy is depleting rapidly. I suggest you head to your quarters for rest. I am capable of finishing your duties.”

“Gee Spock how tired do I look for you to actually tell me to take a nap?”

“Not so much looking, I misspoke.” Spock held his hands behind his back. “You tend to fidget when you’re exhausted. As if any small movement will keep you awake. And then there has been the 28 yawns since we beamed aboard.”

“You’re counting?”

Kirk wanted to act like he was in disbelief. Yet the headache was nagging at him again. And he really was getting tired, but he blamed it on the excitement of the cougar sighting. Plus beaming down to a planet after weeks of marginally doing nothing forced him to expend more energy. There were plenty of reasons he’d be tired.

And a nap sounded really good too.

He placed a hand on Spock’s shoulder showing his appreciation for his first officer’s attention. “Okay. I’ll go and rest. A nap. But you can’t get rid of me that easy. I’ll probably be back later on.”

“Captain, as long as you replenish your energy. That is my only concern.”

Kirk waved off Spock as he left the bridge. He was glad to have a friend in Spock.

Sleep was on the cusp, but Kirk couldn’t get comfortable. He tossed and turned until he finally gave in and took a sleeping pill. Normally he wouldn’t resort to it, but McCoy did give them to him for desperate occasions. Kirk was plenty desperate.

Before he finally fell asleep, he couldn’t help but think how it felt like there was a weight on his chest.

* * *

His heart was racing, pounding, palpitating. It alarmed him. He sat up clutching his chest, his breath was short.

_Maybe I just need to stand up. A bad dream? It was only a fucking cougar, what would give me a nightmare?_

Feet on cold floor. Hands on the edge of his bed. He stood, but everything rushed to his head. The world turned black, gold spots clouded his vision. It felt as though the world was pulled out from underneath. His knees buckled and he collapsed.

“Oh no,” he panted. His breathing worsened. “No.”

Once he regained his vision he climbed to his hands and knees. He crawled over to his desk and hauled himself into his chair. It was like climbing a rock face; slow and steady but exhausting. Kirk shook as he tried to regain his control.

“Kirk…to McCoy.”

“McCoy. What can I do for you Jim?”

“I can’t breathe.”


	2. Inconclusive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We're sorry you're feeling unwell. You can't get tested because you don't have all the symptoms. Oh but you also can't get treated because you can't get tested. Also you probably have it but since you don't have all the symptoms you can't get tested. Sorry for the inconvenience. Please feel well soon!"

“Jim? Where the hell are you?!”

“Quarters.”

McCoy grabbed a medkit and raced out of his office.

Kirk lied his head on his desk, trying to take deep breaths but they just wouldn’t fucking come. He tried the same kind of breathing style when he was invited to a choral festival and the choir taught him how to sing (he was still a shitty singer). That didn’t work. Something was wrapping around his diaphragm and constricting it, it was winding its way through his lungs and up his throat.

He threw off his shirt because it felt like it was choking him.

“Jim!”

Kirk didn’t bother to look in the direction McCoy’s voice was coming from. He just wanted to breathe. He wanted his heart to stop pounding in his chest. And that god damn fucking headache was settling into his upper jaw now. Kirk couldn’t admit it to anyone. He was terrified.

McCoy kneeled down in front of Kirk. He took out his medical scanner and went through the usual motions.

“Jesus Christ, Jim.” He read out the scans. “Blood pressure sky rocketing. Heart rate at 130. Erratic pulse.”

“I can’t breathe,” Kirk gasped.

“I know I know,” McCoy pulled out his stethoscope. It was enough to see Jim’s shallow labored breathing, the scrunched shoulders when he tried to gasp for air, but he still had to check. “The damnedest thing. They sound normal.”

“They’re definitely not!”

“Hey, save your energy.” McCoy pulled Kirk into a sitting position, one of which Kirk’s lungs protested. He leaned forward to compensate. “Jim, I want to test you for that virus, but there’s a slight problem.”

Kirk could only roll his eyes at this point. He was too focused on his breathing.

“It doesn’t work unless you have all three major symptoms. And you don’t.”

“How. Does that. Make. Any. FUCKING. Sense.”

“It doesn’t. But the point, according to their government, was to keep an ample supply of tests and not to waste them.”

“My lips and tongue are going numb.”

“But you don’t have a fever. And you haven’t been coughing, have you?” McCoy pulled out another instrument, he placed it on Kirk’s finger.

“No coughing. But my lips and tongue are going NUMB.”

“Your blood oxygen levels are dipping, but they’re not dangerous at this point.”

“Bones. I can’t fucking breathe, are you serious.” Kirk lied back down on the desk, his muscles were weakening again. His head, more so his sinuses, were murdering him.

“Let’s get you back to bed. Since I can’t definitively test you, we’ll keep you here. I’ll keep you on a very close monitor. You’ll have to wear some tech, but it’ll help keep everything in check.”

McCoy waited for Kirk to get up but he didn’t budge. He continued lying on his desk, the shallow rapid breathing ever more present.

“Jim. Bed.” He held out his hand.

“Bones, I collapsed and had to crawl here. I’m not walking.”

The doctor propped Jim up and nearly dragged Kirk back to his bed. It was a mere 15 steps, and Jim could only stagger two. He fell into bed where McCoy propped up some pillows.

“We’re gonna experiment here. I don’t know how you’ll respond to oxygen. It’ll help level it in your blood, but whether or not it’ll help you physically breathe?” He sighed, “Jim we’ll figure this out. We were all vaccinated. This shouldn’t be a thing.”

Kirk leaned back, staring at the ceiling. “Just fucking help me. Help me please.”

“Ten minutes. Give me ten minutes and I’ll come back with all the necessary supplies.”

McCoy darted back out of Kirk’s quarters. He ran as fast as he could down the hallways. It killed him knowing he couldn’t test his friend or properly treat him, that he couldn’t perform the duty the captain required of his doctor. He vaccinated everyone on the ship. He followed proper protocol. The risk to the Enterprise sat at a very low two percent.

The vaccines that were supplied eased McCoy’s worries, they were proven multiple times by his own staff. Plus the Enterprise’s exposure was vastly limited. Himself, Spock, and Kirk were the only ones on that planet. McCoy had to run through every little detail to try and remember where each of them had been and with whom. Maybe Kirk was exposed just a little too long.

“Chapel, I need supplies for a respiratory illness and hypertension-like symptoms. I need to make a call.”

He locked his office door. His first duty was to leave a message for that blasted planet’s government. His next was to call Spock.

“McCoy to bridge.”

“Bridge here,” Spock answered.

“Oh good, just who I wanted to speak with. Can you entertain me in private?”

The small pause allowed for Spock to question why McCoy had to phrase the question in such a way, and then to allow himself to move to the captain’s ready room.

“We are now privately communicating, doctor.”

“The Captain is off duty indefinitely. At my discretion. His quarters are to be quarantined. I don’t want anyone but myself entering, understand?”

“Does this have to do with the virus on the planet Olgorum?”

“Unfortunately so. Everything is inconclusive with him, so I need to be sure. As far as everyone else goes, continue to monitor. I suggest you keep the reason why the captain is out confidential.”

“Of course doctor. I will assist in any way possible.”

McCoy ran through a checklist of everything he needed and proceeded once more to Kirk’s quarters. When he returned, Kirk was still in the same spot. His eyes were closed, he was incredibly pale.

He placed an oxygen mask over his face, put the blood oxygen monitor on his finger, and he taped a small device on the underside of his wrist, followed by electrodes on his chest. All the while Kirk barely opened his eyes. He wanted to ask McCoy all sorts of questions, but he didn’t have the energy. It already hurt to breathe, talking wasn’t going to happen.

“I’m gonna see how you react to that mask. I really don’t know if it’ll help. You’re also wearing a blood oxygen monitor. It’ll beep if your levels dip into the danger level. I’ve also got you on a heart monitor. It’s going to send me EKGs.”

McCoy felt Kirk’s head again. Still no fever. “No coughs?”

A slow shake of the head.

“There’s no way you don’t have it. I just want to fucking prove it!” McCoy paced around. “Jim, I’m sorry. I want to do more. I want to. But I can’t start any real treatment until this is all logged and I can’t go on a whim cause the treatment itself is dangerous.”

“Bones. Don’t…don’t beat yourself up over this.” Oh fucking fuck it hurt to speak. His throat was on fire, constricted. “I know you’re limited. I’ll live.”

McCoy winced at how visibly pained Kirk was while speaking. “The thing is, you might not.”

“A reality. I’ll face it.”

“Okay Jim. Please just shut up. It hurts to look at you like this. You look like you got hit by a train.”

“Feels like it.”

* * *

“We are deeply sorry to hear about your captain.” The Vice President of Olgorum’s medical institute finally responded to McCoy’s calls. “There’s been no recorded cases like that of his. I recommend keeping a full log. I also do not recommend starting treatment.”

“Figures. He has every symptom but the main two. I rechecked his lungs and they sound like he should have a debilitating cough but he doesn’t.”

“Neurological?”

McCoy considered it, but that prognosis terrified him. “I hope it doesn’t come down to that.”

“They’ve shown to make recoveries as well.”

“I read the literature. It’s not hopeful.”

It was approximately 12 hours since McCoy got Kirk’s distress call. Since then he figured out that Kirk didn’t respond to the oxygen mask. It wasn’t helpful in the slightest. The first dose of pain medication he gave him didn’t take. Kirk told him about how nerve-racking the headache was. A constant nag nag nag. All the while he still struggled to breathe. Kirk tried putting on a shirt, but it still felt constricting. Even a blanket that sat anywhere higher then his hips felt like it was compressing him and forcing all the air out of his body.

Lying flat on his back was uncomfortable. The weight on his chest grew. From only sitting on his sternum it now felt like the weight was on both his lungs. He could only stand it for moments, then he was back sitting up.

“Bones. I’m actually kinda hungry.”

Maybe food would help. A delicious slice of pizza. A BLT, a piece of pie even.

Or maybe food would only serve as a reminder of how fucked up his body was, because after two bites of the turkey sandwich Bones brought over, Kirk was exhausted.

“Two bites?”

“I can’t breathe while I’m eating. And chewing is tiring. The pain in my upper jaw isn’t helping either. I’m so hungry, though.”

“Alright, liquid diet it is.”

Kirk’s eyes widened in frustration. He just wanted food. A meal. Something that was satisfying. Why the hell did eating have to be a chore? Now McCoy was talking about a liquid diet, an absolutely revolting idea.

“You gotta eat, Jim.”

He groaned in response.

“Jim…”

“Can you…leave me alone for a bit?” Kirk curled up and lied on his side, but that didn’t feel any better. The weight in his chest shifted where he felt a sharp pain behind his shoulder blade. Nevermind then, back to sitting how he was.

McCoy rearranged parts of Kirk’s living space to make it more accessible. Kirk didn’t want anything to do with it, but McCoy insisted. “If I leave you here all alone and you need something, I don’t want you leaving this bed. No crawling around, attempting to stand, or any other bullshit. Got it?”

Kirk gave McCoy a thumbs up. He maybe heard half of what he said, breathing and remembering how to breathe was his top priority.

That was the most frustrating bit. He could handle the annoying mind numbing sinus headache, but he constantly had to tell himself to take a breath. Inhaling while something was strangling his insides, crushing his every respiratory muscle, it was a challenge.

_Normal breath? Using the diaphragm._ No.

_Okay, middle chest. Come on._ Nope.

_Top of the shoulders then?_ A joke.

He found some respite while hunched over, but then that moved the weight in his chest forward. There was a deep penetrating wheeze coming from the very depths of his lungs. It rattled his core and his spine. It reverberated through his ribs.

_No. Nope. Not sitting like that. I’m stuck in this one god damn position. Fuck._

* * *

Three hours, four minutes, and 43 seconds. He’d been sitting there for three hours, four minutes, and 52 seconds. Three hours, four minutes, 57 seconds. Three hours, five minutes 16 seconds…

The boatswain chime knocked him out of his trance. Probably McCoy checking to see if he’s still alive.

“Kirk, here.”

“Captain? It’s Commander Spock.”

A voice Kirk was so happy to hear. Calming and soothing and the slightest bit of concern.

“Mhmm?”

“I’ve been briefed on your situation.” A pause. Longer than normal for Spock. “I would like to make sure you’re okay.”

Kirk swore he heard hesitation in Spock’s voice. Maybe it was the headache, or the fact that he was still trying his hardest to focus on breathing. He could have wanted to hear Spock sound hesitant for all he knew.

“I’m here.”

“May I stop by?”

“Spock. I’m under. Quarantine.”

“The dividing hallway to our bathroom is not. I can install a force field at the doors to both of our quarters.”

“Is this. Important. To you?”

It was important to Kirk. Any way to see anyone else other than a nagging doctor.

“Captain, it is my duty as your first officer and as your friend to keep you appraised of your ship and keep you company. It is very important to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I call it the covid-22. A miserable fucking catch 22 that literally could kill you! I got sick early on in this pandemic when you HAD to have the fever, a cough, and knew someone who was positive. Tests were literally unobtainable at this point unless you were working in a hospital. Numb lips and tongue on top of struggling to breathe weren't good enough symptoms lmao


	3. Fuck the Universe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You're stuck inside this room. Have fun with all the mind games!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess I have to make sure you all know I'm not a doctor and you should probably go see one if you have symptoms, don't suffer alone like I did.

**2 Days.**

“Perhaps a goal should be made.”

Spock was in the dividing hallway, while Kirk was slumped against the wall next to his door. McCoy verified the force field worked several times before letting Spock use it, and even then he wasn’t entirely happy because it meant that Jim had to get out of bed.

“What goal?”

“You come to meet me at this doorframe every day at 14:00 hours.”

Kirk thought about it, that’s all he’s been capable of doing lately was thinking. Any visual stimulation was too overwhelming. Music with lyrics was too overwhelming. He tried reading a few hours ago but that made his eyes hurt. It felt like he was reading the same line over and over again anyway.

During his ample thinking time he thought about this illness. It was affecting his lungs and his heart. Okay, so where do doctors go from there? A cold, the flu, pneumonia? Maybe Spock was going down the same rabbit hole.

_Just keep moving. No matter how little or insignificant it might feel. I gotta keep moving. I gotta have a purpose. Seeing Spock is my purpose._

“A good goal.”

Spock kneeled down to get a better glimpse of Kirk. He looked exhausted from the short journey from his bedroom to this doorway. His head leaned back against the wall, Spock could truly see just how labored Kirk’s breathing was. By the looks of it he should have finished a triathlon.

“The bridge officers all send their well wishes. All they are aware of is that you are ill. They will not know the details unless it is deemed necessary.”

“I’m sure rumors. Have already started.”

His first officer sat cross legged on the floor, he observed Kirk for a moment. There was a permanence of pain on his face coupled with exhaustion.

“Have you slept any, Jim?”

“Not really.”

“Surely you are aware—“

“Well aware. I get four hours. I wake up. Suffocating. I can hear myself. Struggle to breathe when. Asleep.”

Kirk shouldn’t have been irritated. It was a simple question. Spock was only trying to gauge the situation, but he wasn’t there earlier when McCoy berated him for still being awake at three in the morning. It was another frustration. Sleep came for an hour then he was awake for five. Today he was awake for twenty and asleep for four.

“Jim, I apologize. Do refuse to answer. You don’t need to waste breath on repetitive questions I could ask McCoy.”

“What about you?”

Spock tilted his head.

“We were together a lot. Meals, beam downs, cartography. Are you. Feeling sick? At all?”

“Not at all.”

_Must be fucking nice._

* * *

**5 Days.**

“Walking pneumonia.”

“Excuse me?”

“I read that stuff. About the virus. If you can’t treat. Me normally. Look at it like. Pneumonia.”

McCoy frowned as he was reading all of Jim’s log entries from the past three days. Heart rate spikes (yet the EKGs were normal), full blown migraines, limited sleep, and of course his inability to speak in full phrases with one breath. On paper it sure did look like pneumonia, and maybe he did have it. But the inconclusiveness of all his scans and tests pointed to one thing and that was his brain.

“Medically, I can’t treat you in that way. Because all the medicine is going to try treating you for fluid filled lungs, which you don’t have. However, I do think it’s kind of a good idea in a recovery aspect. When you meet Spock, how do you get to the doorway?”

“I crawl.”

“Tomorrow I want you to walk. I don’t care if that means you crawl half way and then haul your ass off the floor. I want you to walk.” Bones took a couple more scans, again nothing out of the ordinary showed up for Kirk’s lungs. The only way at this point to truly figure out if there was any kind of lung damage was to stick a camera down his throat. Too invasive for a body that was for the most part shut down. “Also, you’ve logged nothing for meals. You promised you’d attempt to eat. Do I need to ban all the replicators from making you anything other than liquid items?”

“I’ve been eating.”

“You have to log it, Jim. That’s the point of logging everything. You have to log everything. So what did you eat?”

“Um…”

“I don’t care if you’re in an iron lung stop fucking with me, Jim.”

“Spock’s been bringing me peanut butter cups.” By far the longest phrase Jim was able to utter. It winded him. He clutched his chest.

“Peanut butter cups? Spock? Spock has been feeding you candy?”

Kirk smiled. Okay that did sound absolutely absurd. Spock normally rejected all forms of candy. He’d remark every time Kirk found a sweet treat on a planet telling him it was a bad habit and not worth the consumption. Spock must have felt truly bad for Kirk to start bringing candy.

“He also brought me some iced coffee.”

“Spock is feeding you candy and caffeine.” McCoy held his head in his hands. “Spock. A Vulcan. A logical piece of shit fucking first fucking officer is feeding a patient of mine with heart problems candy and caffeine.”

“I asked him.”

“He should have told you no!”

“At least. I’m eating.”

“Peanut butter cups are not food!”

“Now you’re sounding. Like Spock.”

McCoy fumed. He muttered under his breath while he took the last of his scans. It made Kirk laugh, a regrettable response. He started gasping for air.

The doctor steadied Kirk by holding his shoulders. “Control it. Force yourself to take slow deep breaths no matter how much your body is fighting it. You can’t start hyperventilating again. Control it buddy.”

The two went through a deep breathing exercise. It was miserable. Kirk felt like his lungs were shriveling up, two sizes too small for his body. At least he was able to stop himself from hyperventilating. Kirk whined, he was sick of it. Can’t even laugh? Plus the pain shot through his left shoulder blade and into his neck. He winced.

“Lung pains,” McCoy asked.

Kirk nodded.

“All over?”

Kirk shook his head. He silently pointed to the spots that aggravated him the most. Along the left side of his spine at his shoulder blade, at the top of theright shoulder, and right next to his heart at his sternum.

“Let’s try something. I’ll get you a heating pad. It’ll loosen up all the muscles around your lungs. So when the pain gets unbearable you’ll be able to get some relief.”

When McCoy finally left for the day, Kirk finally let himself cry. He’d been fighting the tears for hours. Miserable. Alone and miserable. Alone, miserable and in pain. His body was hardly functioning. He could barely understand it. He might was well be living on a tight rope, where the smallest thing could kill him.

Like laughter.

_I could die right now and no one would know until Bones comes back tomorrow. I could die right now. I could actually die._

Kirk’s blood oxygen levels were still low but not dangerously. The numbing feeling in his lips was returning. He lied back in bed trying to think of anything, but his mind kept coming back to how frustrating it was that he couldn’t even have supplemental oxygen. All he wanted was a mask, all he wanted was fresh air pumped into his body.

_I just want to take a deep breath! That’s all I want! One deep breath! Just give that to me please! Let me have one! ONE!_

* * *

**7 Days.**

Kirk managed to sit at his desk. He was proud of himself. His goal for the day (other than meeting Spock) was to change clothes. It took 15 minutes and it left him absolutely breathless but he changed.

Changing was mostly for himself. But the black collared shirt was mostly for Spock. He figured he should try to look less miserable. At least he gained some color back in his face, and he was able to stand for 3 minutes! His walking was slow and he still hung on to objects and the wall for balance, but that was coming back too.

His slow journey to the door was more tiring than the previous day. Kirk blamed it with his previous exertion. So at least he knew how much he had to limit himself. Kirk really wanted to greet Spock standing, but he just couldn’t keep his leg strength. Another unbearable reality. All his muscles were there, as they should be (he worked hard to get them!), but there wasn’t an ounce of strength left in them.

He slumped against the wall and slid down. Kirk reminded himself to take deep controlling breaths. He could breathe, if he kept telling himself he could.

_My body is just one giant fucking lie._

14:00. No Spock. Okay, Spock was acting captain, maybe something came up. Maybe a meeting, since he figured Spock would also end up calling him excusing his tardiness.

14:05. Nothing.

Kirk yawned. Amazing how he couldn’t breathe but he could still fucking yawn. He thanked the universe every time one came on, it felt like it was his only source of oxygen at this point. His eyes were getting heavy.

14:10. Still nothing.

There was a warmth that enveloped him. Not fever, not his heating pad, but just this overwhelming calming warmth. Kirk thought he remembered Spock finally showing up and profusely apologizing, but that also could have been a dream. No matter what it was, everything was always drowned out by Kirk’s lungs wheezing. It was a constant vacuum of noise that drove him insane if he didn’t have something else to focus on while attempting sleep.

But now he didn’t care about the wheezing. He was fully calm. It had felt like weeks since he felt this tranquil.

His eyes flickered open. Back in bed. Somehow. Maybe Spock showing up wasn’t a dream.

Kirk propped himself up on his elbows and looked around his room. One: he had to make note to never be in this position again as it was unbearable, and two: Spock was sitting next to him. He was reading.

“Hi.”

Spock looked up from his padd. It was nice seeing him out of his science blues for once. A simple black shirt, Kirk couldn’t help but stare just a little too long.

“You fell asleep waiting for me. I apologize.”

“Carried me. To bed?”

He nodded. “I found that it was very displeasing to me to see you there against the wall. I admit I felt bad. I believe you were partly awake. You said you were upset. I am sorry.”

“I don’t remember.” Kirk pulled himself back into a sitting position. The only position where he could feel somewhat okay. That was the first time he was asleep fully on his back since losing the ability to breathe. Maybe that was a sign of improvement, which was good, because the bed sores were getting painful.

And then he realized that Spock was sitting inside his room. Inside his quarters. He turned off the force field and walked through the threshold. “Spock. You broke. Quarantine.”

“I suppose I did. Maybe prematurely, but I have a theory. After looking at all the contact tracing and your logs as well as the supplemental information we were able to get from Olgorum, I’ve concluded that your illness was initially dormant. Olgorum declared there were multiple cases of dormant infections. One case in particular was incredibly fascinating and it reminded me of you. It was why I was late in the first place.

“This case involved a person who came into contact with an infected person. They showed no symptoms other than a headache and slight chest discomfort while lying down. Then they reported taking a walk in the woods. That was when their health declined dramatically.”

“Sounds just. Like me.”

“We beamed down to that M-Class planet. We were in a forested area. There must be something in this system of planets that have a commonality. Something that resides in the woods. And it’s lead me to believe you are at a zero percent transmission risk.”

It was a sound determination by his first officer, but he also was a little worried that Spock, his best friend, was trying to cling on to some false hope. They were similarly exposed, both in a room with infected people. They both beamed down to that planet. Why was he clinging onto life while Spock got to live on like nothing happened?

“You beamed down. Too.”

“Jim, you were on Olgorum one hour longer than I or Doctor McCoy. You also picked up material on the unnamed planet. I did not.”

“Something. In the dirt?” He thought back to their beam down. He picked up rocks to throw at the animal tracking them. So he must have stirred something up. A very specific combination of events was the driving factor here. It actually pissed him off. Why for all the fucking reasons in the universe did he have to be the one to follow a stupid sequence of events, Small Insignificant Events, that ultimately were trying to kill him? Why him?

“I’ve alerted McCoy who is alerting everyone who beamed down and touched items on the surface. But so far you are the only one that has succumbed.”

“I fucking hate my life.”

Spock was taken aback by the phrase. He thought Kirk would be pleased to know they were making some progress for some sort of treatment. Surely there should have been some solace in knowing that his crew was working tirelessly to help him, their beloved captain.

“Jim? I—“

“Could you leave? I need to be. Alone. Just leave. Please.”

The Vulcan nodded and quickly took his leave.

No matter how painful it was, Kirk screamed. Fuck the universe. Fuck life. Fuck all this bullshit. He shouldn’t have to be trapped here, mindlessly awake for 20 hours at a time. Alone for 16. All because he picked up a rock?

He cursed everyone who he was with who should have easily gotten sick too, but hadn’t.

_Fuck you._ McCoy.

_Fuck you._ Spock.

_Fuck you._ Sulu.

“Fuck all of you!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was a full week where I ate nothing but miniature reese's peanut butter cups and coffee and oh my god it was such a small bit of joy, because everything else was just so damn exhausting to eat. Like, that shouldn't be possible. Eating should not feel like you just ran 10 miles. It shouldn't!


	4. Impulse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "When life gives you lemons you make lemonade...with some sweet sweet 90 proof alcohol.  
> That or you start acting on your feelings for your first officer.  
> I don't know. I can't fucking breathe."

**12 Days.**

It was 03:47 hours. His mind was racing. He couldn’t stand to lie in bed any longer. He thought about sitting at his desk but just the thought exhausted him. Despite the contrary, he put on some slippers and trudged out the door into their dividing hallway.

Slow and steady, balance isn’t all the way there.

Some days he hated this walk. Some days were fine. Depressingly, the walk to the bathroom was about the only feeling of freedom he had, and even then he still was considerate enough to spend another ten minutes disinfecting surfaces. Even if Spock told him his transmission risk was near zero, he didn’t want to chance it. This sector was filled with planets like Olgorum. A virus infecting its citizens. Of the limited information he got, no one was to beam down to any planet. His sudden disappearance? Yeah, the rumors were already starting to fly. Kirk wanted to keep a low profile.

However today so early in the morning, it wasn’t a trip to the bathroom he was making. Kirk wanted to walk farther. He needed to stretch his legs. Sitting was just getting so damn unbearable. The designers of the Enterprise were geniuses, creating a private walk way on the very outer rim of deck five. About four officers were allowed access to it, but as of now it was just him and Spock. He could walk as he pleased without anyone seeing him. He still wasn’t technically breaking quarantine.

The hum of the ship was calming. The stars were so stunning. He missed being on the bridge. He missed being able to walk through his ship and see smiling faces. He missed people.

Kirk leaned against the wall and merely took in the sights of the universe before him. Oh he still hated everything it had done to him in his life. He cursed it every fucking time his breathing got worse, but it was still beautiful. A beautiful universe that wouldn’t let him have anything normal happen to him. No that’s definitely not allowed. He was destined to get shafted at any chance the universe had.

But the beautiful nebulae. The one before him was incredible. Hues of blues and greens. He wished he could see the infrared and the X-ray scans the ship was making of it. All the colors he was missing out on, the bits of star stuff that created life.

It made him feel small. So insignificant. Suffering alone on a ship with hundreds of people who had no idea what was truly happening to him. A small ship in a vast universe filled with other ships filled with people who had no idea each other existed. Small. Why did he matter?

“I am pleased to see you’ve ventured out farther on your walk, captain.” Spock quietly stood by his side, his hands clasped behind his back. “It is a rather aesthetically pleasing sector of space.”

“I wonder what the locals call them.” Kirk studied the one they were passing. Definitely looks like a lotus.

“I’m sure they have their own classifications for names.”

“No, not scientists. Locals. Average people. The ones like me. Who’d take out their telescopes. And search the stars.”

“I see. Just has humans declared M16 as the Eagle Nebula, or more aptly and thought provoking: The Pillars of Creation.”

Kirk smiled, now Spock was starting to understand. It was taking a while, but Kirk always had a secret goal to get Spock to at least entertain a bit of his human self. Spock kept that side locked up, virtually untouched and if he acknowledged it, he apologized. One day he was going to acknowledge his human DNA, and he wasn’t going to say he was sorry or hide it. Maybe he’d just move on.

“I loved looking at the sky. Through my telescope. As a kid. Always searched for. The Rosette Nebula.”

“Curious.”

“Never understood how. Something in space. Could look. So much like a flower on Earth.”

Spock glanced over at Kirk. Their short conversation made him breathless, visibly so as well. “Jim, the color is leaving—“

Kirk was starting to shake. His muscles just weren’t strong enough to let him stand for any longer. At least he was able to walk out to the windows, that was better than nothing, right? Right!?

Before Kirk could completely hit the floor, Spock grabbed him. That all encompassing warmth reached Kirk once more. So that’s what it was. It was Spock’s body against his. How funny that a simple touch could feel so nice, even if he was gasping for breath.

“Do I need to call McCoy?”

“No!” He held on to Spock’s shoulders, trying to stabilize himself. “No. It’ll pass. That’s all. Stay like this? Hold me?”

Phrasing. At least since their bodies were flush against each other. The two locked eyes, both wondering what they should do next. At least Kirk had a viable excuse. He couldn’t breathe, but Spock? Oh Spock. He was frenzied.

Kirk wondered if Spock could feel the warmth between them as well. Surely it couldn’t just be Spock’s body heat, it just didn’t feel right. There was something more to this.

He pressed his lips against Spock’s. He felt bad, he’d been severely dehydrated and his lips were chapped as hell. Kirk fully expected Spock to pull away, give him a look of horror, and leave. But none of that happened. Spock simply held Kirk’s head in his hands.

Kirk’s body was a flurry of confusing emotions. He was genuinely happy, but then again he was still very much struggling to breathe. He felt at peace, yet he was losing all his muscle strength the longer he was standing here. Spock wasn’t pulling away. Spock was reciprocating.

_I’m kissing my first officer._

_Holy shit I am kissing my first officer._

Spock pulled away, not too fast to warrant a panicked response from Kirk. The kiss was spontaneous, but it was not entirely unexpected. He cleared his throat. “Perhaps, we should get you back to your quarters.”

Kirk nodded. “Let me. Let me walk though. I gotta do this. For myself.”

They held hands, Spock used just enough strength to keep Kirk balanced on his feet. It was slow going, but he admired Kirk’s determination.

“I am pleased to see this hasn’t diminished your spirit.”

Kirk could only sigh. If only Spock saw him during the other 18 hours of the day.

“Am I wrong?”

“I’d prefer to shoot myself. Out of an air lock.”

“Jim.”

“I don’t have much. If I live. I live. I die? Oh well.”

Spock stopped them. They were just outside of their respective quarters. The Vulcan’s features darkened. “You will not die. I will not allow it.”

“Good to know. Someone believes in me.”

Before Kirk could return to his quarters, Spock pulled him back for a small kiss on the cheek. “I will not let anything happen to you.”

“Spock?”

He nodded.

“I’m still an exposure risk.”

Spock shrugged, but there was the slightest upturn at the corners of his mouth. “I suppose you are.”

* * *

**20 Days.**

“Well this is extremely surprising,” McCoy sat down next to Kirk. He was happy to finally see him getting out, even if it was just to the mess hall. “How you feeling?”

“Tired.”

McCoy nodded, “you look tired. Uh, not miserably tired, just normal tired!”

“It’s okay. I know I still look like shit. At least my eyes aren’t burning anymore.” Kirk had been dealing with yet another slew of weird symptoms. He finally had gone four days without a headache, but that was replaced with pink eye. There one day, and then gone the next. “I don’t even touch my eyes, I don’t get it. I swear this virus is just fucking with me to fuck with me.”

“It’s a virus Jim, not a school bully.”

McCoy studied what Kirk had in front of him. A latte and soup. Better than nothing, but as far as nutrition went it could be better. He couldn’t help but notice that Jim lost weight as well, his muscle mass definitely wasn’t what it used to be.

“How’s the lungs?”

“They hurt. What’s new.”

“You getting out, that’s new. It’s a remarkable thing to see since you couldn’t even stand 18 days ago. Now look at you!”

“What I’d love is to go back to you know, my job.”

McCoy shook his head. “No go. You need to get physically better. I’m still seeing weird heart rate spikes from you, and your last brain scan tells me you’re still easily overwhelmed.”

Kirk couldn’t hide his smile. He couldn’t really explain how not all of those heart rate spikes were related to his illness. Some of them were explicitly because Spock had shown up at his quarters and offered him company. Of course said company always ended up lying in bed with him.

“What’s with the goofy smile and the blushing?”

“Er, nothing. Just thinking about something.”

McCoy frowned. “Please tell me I am not seeing a direct result of you watching porn or something.”

“Okay first off that’s impossible, since I was the one who banned porn on the ship,” Kirk tried to take in as deep a breath as possible, “you think I’d bypass my own ban when I only did it in the first place cause we didn’t find a workaround to Starfleet’s bullshit?”

The doctor remembered the incident. The admiralty had called them up wondering why official Starfleet bandwidth was being used for explicit material. Turned out creating a VPN for subspace wasn’t as straightforward as it was on a planet. Everyone gave Kirk dirty looks for a straight month before he had to put out an official bulletin explaining why.

“Okay, then who is it?” McCoy rapped his fingers on the table. “Cause the only person I’m aware of that you’ve exposed is Spock.”

Kirk’s cheeks were red hot.

“Spock? That fuckin- SPOCK!?”

McCoy’s outburst garnered looks from around the mess hall. Kirk lied his head on the table. He still wanted to keep somewhat of a low profile, trying not to attract attention, but McCoy just made that difficult.

“Shut up, Bones. Just shut up.”

McCoy leaned closer to Kirk trying to keep the conversation quiet.

“I don’t even know how many regulations that breaks.”

“Since when do you care about regulations?”

“Since now!”

“You don’t even know if we’ve done anything.”

“You can’t hide embarrassment like that when you’re pale as you! I’ve seen that look from you, or are you forgetting just how many walks of shame I’ve seen you do?”

Kirk lifted his head and looked around. Not many people were paying them attention. “We kissed. That’s it,” he mumbled.

“That’s it?”

“That’s absolutely it.” He lied his head on the table again. This time because it made his lungs feel slightly better. The short but animated conversation lit them on fire.

McCoy sighed. “Finish your lunch then I highly suggest you make it back to bed. Doctor’s orders.”

* * *

Spock was about to leave for the night, he unfortunately had projects to work on as well as his duties as acting captain. Ever since that morning where he kissed Kirk, they silently agreed to let whatever happen between them flourish. If it went anywhere else, that was fine. If it didn’t, that was fine too.

Most of their time was spent in silence. Kirk didn’t like to talk as much anymore because it only ended up with his lungs screaming in pain. He’d nod or say one-word responses, but he’d never have full conversations. It let Spock appraise him of the events happening on the bridge, as well as typical gossip found on a starship. Kirk was surprised Spock even cared, but he also thought it was perfect. Everyone would confess something to an emotionless Vulcan, because why would an emotionless Vulcan give a shit about those letters ensign Laurie was holding onto? Why would he give a shit that those letters ended up missing and read by ensign Laurie’s ex boyfriend, only to be rediscovered on an empty table by Scotty? It was pure entertainment for Kirk.

When Spock got up to leave for the night, Kirk grasped at Spock’s shirt.

“Wait.”

Spock tilted his head. There was worry in Kirk’s eyes. “Jim?”

“Could you stay?”

“I need to return to my duties, and you should be going to sleep.”

Sleep was something Kirk had been struggling with. Thankfully he was able to get at least 6 hours, but the way his lungs had been wheezing and rattling lately was terrifying him. It was always worse when he was lying down, and he couldn’t sleep very well sitting up. Once he lied down it would feel like breathing through a straw. The weight that fell onto his chest and back was so constricting that some nights it still felt like his shirts and blankets were choking him. So he’d stay awake and read more information about this supposed virus that was sweeping across the sector. People would be alright for weeks seemingly fighting off the virus with only a cough and then they’d drop dead without warning.

_I don’t want to die. I want to wake up in the morning. I want to see his face again._

“I—I don’t want to sleep.”

“You are still terribly sick, you need as much of it as possible.”

“What if I don’t wake up?”

The worry in Kirk’s eyes transformed into terror. He realized he was still at death’s door. Anything could go wrong at any point. Spock of course knew Kirk wasn’t entirely free from complications, but to see his captain terrified of sleep when he’d been through so much trauma inducing events already was disheartening. It should be completely illogical, but this virus was not rooted in the logical course of things. When Spock considered a possibility, the virus proved him wrong. They were all truly living in an unknown.

“You will wake up. You will wake up because I will be right here monitoring you.” The least Spock could do. He could forgo a visit to the bridge during gamma shift.

“Thank you.” Kirk did not let go of Spock’s shirt though, so the Vulcan climbed back into bed.

“I still need to work, Jim.”

“You’re in captain’s quarters. You can literally do everything here.”

Spock ran a hand through Kirk’s hair, “please refrain from using the term ‘literally.’”

Kirk smiled, a soft chuckle. He hoped Spock knew how grateful he was for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did my fair share of doom scrolling back in March/April when I was still very very sick. My dudes, don't. I was already terrified of sleep and it made the fear so much worse.   
> Covid pink eye is real and it sucked, there was no reason for that corona. >:(


	5. Heart and Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You've reached NCC-1701. The captain is unavailable at the moment, if you have any comments, questions, or concerns, please contact StarFleet Command. If you would like to leave a message, press 1. If you would like to add your name to a list that has no significance other than being a list, please press 2."

**30 Days.**

The inevitable call Kirk was expecting. Brass was starting to wonder why Kirk had been off duty for so long. McCoy didn’t care to share the reason as the sector was in lockdown, there’d be no reason for Starfleet to make any first contacts in person or make any diplomatic calls. He didn’t see the need as all the Enterprise had been doing was fielding research for a slew of planets with the same viral outbreak. Not that Kirk wouldn’t have been capable, but Spock was fundamentally grounded in science. He didn’t succumb to emotional distress.

“So, why have you been off duty for so long?”

“I’ve been sick?”

“For 30 days?”

He sighed. “I ended up with the virus back when The Enterprise first visited Olgorum.”

“We’ve been updated on the situation. The most current information says the recovery period is two weeks.”

“Yup.”

“And you’re still experiencing symptoms?”

“Yup.” Kirk didn’t even attempt to look nice for this call. No attempt to act accordingly as well. He spent the better part of the day hunched over his desk with his heart pounding against his chest. Even now it was still racing. He wasn’t sure how he was continuing with the call.

“Well. I’m very sorry to hear you’ve gotten the virus. Everyone else on board?”

“Totally fine. It’s just me. I’m not a risk to anyone but myself at this point.”

“Perhaps then you should fully relinquish—“

“I trust Commander Spock with my life, otherwise he wouldn’t be my first officer. But this is still my ship and my command. I am not going to let that go because of a lousy virus. If things were different I still would have him, McCoy and every science and medical officer on this ship take the lead in this effort to help this solar system. There’s a time and place for command, this is science. Or do I need to dumb it down for you?”

The admiral gaped at him. He hadn’t had an officer outright fight him in years, let alone a captain. It was also horrific seeing Kirk lose all color in his face as he made his speech.

“Captain, are you..? You’ve gone white as a sheet.”

“I’m done with this conversation. I’ve said my piece. Don’t bother me. I’ll bother you.”

Kirk ended the transmission. He could hear his heart thumping in his head, not only throbbing in his chest but also in his ears. He stood, leaning over his desk trying to calm himself down. If only he could fucking breathe, he might have been able to control his heart rate faster! Nevertheless he tried. He tried to take as deep a breath as he could, hoping that this was the day.

But it wasn’t.

He wanted to see just how pale he was. The numb tingling feeling was back in his lips. Kirk walked as fast as he could to the bathroom. The mirror revealed all: bags under his eyes, he was whiter than he’d ever been, his lips were just starting to tinge blue, dizziness was over taking him.

If he didn’t know any better he was standing piss drunk in a dive bar bathroom making bedroom eyes at himself. There really wasn’t a difference in feeling. Hell, he licked his lips just to feel the numbness once more. Kirk could have been laughing at the weird familiarity, but the horror struck.

_This is it. I’m going die. This is my last fucking day. I know it. I’m going to fucking die._

Kirk slowly walked back out to the hallway, he clutched his chest. The longer his heart raced, the closer he was getting. It didn’t help that panic was settling in. A fucking panic attack? He hadn’t had one of those in years.

But this was a panic attack on top of an already racing heart. Let’s add palpitations. It was a panic attack on top of barely being able to breathe. Let’s add hyperventilating. It was a panic attack on top of already being afflicted by a debilitating virus, because this was James T. Kirk’s life. Nothing was fucking normal!

“Jim?”

Kirk could barely make out Spock’s figure. He knew he was there, his voice was so instantly calming. His touch was so warm.

“Spock to McCoy. The Captain needs immediate help.”

_“Listen to my voice. Focus on my voice. I am here with you. Keep listening to my voice.”_

Kirk awoke to Spock hovering over him. His eyes were staring at him with a sincerity he’d never seen. They were penetrating his very soul. It was rare to see Spock with a visible emotion, but there he was inches away. His brows knotted in fear, his eyes were watery.

“Captain?”

They were in sickbay. Kirk had even more monitoring devices connected to him than previous. Oxygen was flowing through his nose, but of course that did nothing for the physical inability to breathe. Obviously it was just to get it into his body as a desperate attempt to keep him alive.

“What happened?”

Spock shook his head. “We don’t know. I saw you and you looked like you were panicking.”

He sat up, trying to regain all his mental bearings. He barely remembered the video call. He barely remembered that whole day in fact. Kirk looked over at McCoy who was recording the readings down in their very large file solely dedicated to Kirk’s illness.

“Spock very well may have saved your life.”

“As a first officer should.” Spock nodded.

“I could feel you, inside my head?” Kirk closed his eyes once more, trying to relive the feeling. So calming. So pleasurable. He didn’t want that to end.

Spock nodded. “I melded with you as a healer would. I wanted to instill peace so you could function normally.”

“Spock, I—I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”

* * *

McCoy kept Kirk in sick bay until his heart rate leveled out. Since getting sick, Kirk’s resting rate had been elevated from what it typically was. Just another addition to the list of symptoms. McCoy decided to make two lists, one of his typical readings and those that were now considered normal.

“I have one last thing to do with you before you can leave.” The doctor brought out a spirometer. “You shouldn’t be having this much trouble breathing still. I’m gonna measure your oxygen intake.”

They went through the process. Kirk thought it was going to be more tiring than it was, but he expected to be tired. He was always tired. His lungs always hurt.

McCoy recorded the results. It was mostly for himself, a baseline that he needed for his next course of action.

“I’m sending you to your quarters with the same kind of device. It’s called an incentive spirometer. It’s gonna force you to use your lungs and hopefully it’ll increase your lung capacity.”

“How does it work?”

“You ever sat at a meal when you were a kid and you blew bubbles into your drink through a straw? You get to do that.”

Kirk grinned.

“You make one blow job joke James Kirk and I will slap you upside the head. Sick or not.”

Kirk frowned.

McCoy rubbed his eyes. The past month had been a shit show for everyone on board. He’d been trying his damnedest not only to figure out what was happening to his best friend, but to an entire solar system. Vaccines sure, but when the virus laid dormant in people with the possibility of spontaneously causing symptoms he was at a loss. A simple vaccine wasn’t a cure. And then there was Kirk. Still sick a month later despite the typical recovery being two weeks. Sure those who recovered were still weak, they had been sick. This however, whatever Kirk was going through was not normal. Perhaps the medical officer on Olgorum was correct. Kirk’s brain was being mercilessly attacked, which in turn meant Kirk’s brain was attacking his body.

How is that treatable?

“I’m sorry Jim. I didn’t mean to snap. I just really want to help you. I want to cure you. Since this all started I’ve felt guilty that I can’t help you more.”

“Dont feel guilty. I should have never beamed down to that planet.”

“To be fair, they shouldn’t have let us beam down to their planet. Fuckers knew there was an outbreak and they didn’t stop us? Bunch of ass holes, if you ask me.”

McCoy made a good point. Olgorum failed to enact any safety protocols. Who knew how many people were infected thanks to their carelessness.

“If it’s a public health emergency, how does that affect the Prime Directive?”

“Jim, don’t start with the politics. Focus on yourself. You’re still in no way capable of those kinds of decisions.”

“But you can’t stop me from thinking about it.”

* * *

**36 Days.**

He was still banned from doing any type of work, but it didn’t stop him from making a desperately needed trip. It was inevitable that spending so much time alone in his quarters would make him stir crazy. He really missed his friends.

Kirk punched in his code, the doors opened. Just as he remembered. It felt like it was years since he last saw Sulu and Chekov goofing off at the helm while Uhura monitored communications as she also slipped in memes to the rest of the bridge crew for entertainment. It felt so relieving to see Spock at his own post pulling up information and conversing with Uhura about disseminating it throughout the ship.

And despite him being absent for a month it was still organic for the first person to see him to announce his arrival.

“Captain on the—bridge?” Scotty moseyed over to Kirk. “It’s really you! Lads, look who’s come to visit!”

Everyone looked up, their eyes alight with surprise. The murmur of voices grew louder with excitement.

“Oh my god are you back?!”

“How are you!?”

“What happened!?”

“You’re not dead!”

All formality disintegrated. Scotty and Uhura pulled Kirk into a hug. The two were probably some of the most worried officers on the bridge. They heard plenty of rumors flying around which they knew weren’t true, but when the only real information they got was “The captain will be out for a while, just don’t worry about it,” they’re gonna worry.

“I missed you guys so much,” Kirk croaked. He returned their hugs. “How is everyone up here?”

“Worried about you,” Uhura pulled away.

“We made an agreement too,” Sulu chimed in, “Anyone who has command doesn’t sit in the captain’s chair. Not until you’re able to come back.”

Kirk smiled. “What a nice sentiment.”

“When er’ya comin’ back captain?” Scotty frowned.

“I—have no idea.”

“You better come back soon. We need you,” Chekov folded his arms. “A ship without its captain is so, unfortunate!”

“Surely, Commander Spock is doing just fine.” Kirk glanced at Spock who hadn’t looked up from his screens. He knew Spock was doing just fine. Of course, Kirk wasn’t about to tell anyone of what they’ve been up to in the early morning hours. “I mean he still keeps me up to date on everything, so I’m not totally out of the loop.”

“I believe ensign Chekov is correct, Captain.” Spock finally looked up. He could barely keep eye contact with Kirk. “I am only a commander and first officer. A ship does need its captain.”

“Trust me guys, if I could get better faster I would. I want to be up here so bad. I miss all of it. I miss you guys. I miss the work. I miss playing trivial pursuit when there’s nothing better to do. I miss my family.”

“Doctor McCoy isn’t stopping you from visiting us, is he?” Uhura handed Kirk a padd. “You should visit more often.”

Kirk looked at the padd. It was set to a screen with a graphic that read “Get well soon!”

“When you scroll through it, there’s messages from the crew. All hand written. Like I said, we’re All worried about you.”

“This is, really thoughtful. Thank you for doing this. I needed something like this. I really did.”

It didn’t matter if he was off duty, he couldn’t cry on the bridge. He just couldn’t. Kirk treasured every message that was written for him. All 205 of them.

He looked at everyone once again. Kirk could tell they were a bit uneasy. None of them truly knew how afflicted he was, if he was going to randomly collapse or have some sort of asthma attack. But he decided to take a seat in his chair, not admitting that his lungs were hurting just a little bit more that day.

“I’ll hang out here for a bit.”

Spock furrowed his brows. “If you attempt any kind of work I will remove you from the bridge.”

“Yes sir,” Kirk grinned. He liked the idea of Spock commanding him around for once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm already pissed off at Jim cause he actually got medical attention >:(
> 
> This is based off one of the days that I was just casually sitting in my living room watching Food Network and then my heart started to race. I could feel everything just leave my body, and I sat there having a silent panic attack (I didn't want to freak out my mom who was with me at the time) telling myself that I was going to die. I spent two hours like that. Two hours telling myself I was going to die any moment now. I never feared death as much as I do now until that day.


	6. On the Mend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We're trapped and there's nothing we can do. This is a special kind of hell."

**50 Days.**

As of late Kirk was finding ways to try and recover everything he lost. It wasn’t helpful that the entire sector was in a lockdown. It didn’t help that Starfleet specifically told The Enterprise to avoid all contact with uninhabited planets and asteroids. The entire ship was confined to itself. The reality of no chance of shore leave any time soon was starting to set in on the entire crew. It was especially starting to set in on Kirk.

He and McCoy agreed, it was about time he’d start moving around more. The incentive spirometer was helping Kirk’s lungs, but he had to keep progressing. It was time to move past his original goal: crawling to the door to meet Spock at 14:00 hours. Now he was determined to walk 3.2 kilometers every other day.

“Why 3.2 kilometers?”

Kirk met Spock in the biology lab. The Vulcan had been looking at various samples of the same virus. All of the officers who specialized in virology were taking a much needed break. He offered to take on some of their research.

“Because at 3.5 kilometers, it gets really hard to walk back to my quarters. If I hack off the point three, it’s just enough to push it as much as possible.”

“I’d prefer you don’t push yourself at all.”

Spock looked up from the collection of research sitting on the counter. He was silently proud to see the recovery Kirk was already making. It was far from the sparring and phaser fights the captain had been in, but it was promising.

“I won’t push myself that far. That’s what I have you for.”

“You kissing me for 3 minutes while gasping for breath is erratic behavior I do not approve of.”

Last night Kirk finally indulged himself. They spent too many evenings lying in bed next to each other cuddling. He knew why Spock didn’t want to push him. After all Kirk was still the captain and Spock took his duty to preserve the life of his captain seriously. There was no way he would initiate anything.So Kirk started to plant kisses along Spock’s arm, working his way up to the Vulcan’s neck. He kissed along his ears and on his forehead.

Kirk couldn’t help it but climb on top of his first officer. He was resolute in this new evolution of their romantic relationship. Spock didn’t even try to stop him.

“You enjoyed it.”

“You were sitting on my pelvis and grinding against me, of course I enjoyed it.” Spock made some additions to a slew of hand written notes. It drove Kirk mad. Here they were flirting and Spock just went back to work.

He leaned on the counter, gazing once more at Spock. They had yet to acknowledge whatever their relationship was. He never heard of a first officer with benefits before. To be honest if this was all that it was, he’d be okay. Yet Kirk was starting to want more. He didn’t want this to end at physical exploration.

“I’m sorry I just happen to want to take you all in while I’m debilitatingly sick.”

“Clearly you have bad timing.” Spock rose a brow.

Kirk placed his hand on top of Spock’s. He was always enamored with how soft Spock’s skin was. There was no way he didn’t use one hell of a good moisturizer. It was just too soft.

“If my body wasn’t screaming at me to go lie down right now, I’d so totally jump you.” Just the thought of pinning Spock down on the counter surrounded by scientific instruments was arousing him.

“Jim?”

“Spock?”

_I don’t care. Just give me permission. Say yes and I’ll fuck you right here._

“Go lie down.”

_Damn it._

* * *

“Can we make this quick? I’m exhausted.” Kirk plopped onto the biobed. He might have pushed it too far with the walk coupled with the copious amounts of kissing from the night before. It felt as though someone was stabbing his lungs with a hot metal rod.

After he left Spock in the biology lab, Kirk went back to his quarters. He tried to take in a bit of mindless entertainment, but his vision started to darken. There was a word for it, but he couldn’t remember.

“Migraine,” McCoy asked as he ran a scanner at Kirk’s eyes.

“Yeah and it’s making my vision weird.”

“Weird?”

“Like, spots. Squigglies? A glitch in the matrix?”

McCoy nodded. As a doctor, he loved hearing how his patients described symptoms. The way people described the indescribable should have its own file.

“You’re referring to scotoma. Basically your brain is telling you to fuck yourself right now. It’s a visual migraine.”

“Well it’s making me feel sick. And the rest of my body is telling me to go fuck myself, why does my brain have to be in on it too?”

McCoy sighed. The evidence piling up for an neurological infection was surpassing McCoy’s ability to deny it. As a doctor, he never denied the possibility, but as Kirk’s friend he wished it wasn’t. He wished the virus attacked his body like a typical case.

“Jim, your brain has always been in on it.” He shot Kirk with a hypo, hopefully to get rid of the migraine. “With all the scans we’ve taken, all the research that’s coming to light…”

“My brain is rotting.”

“No, it’s not rotting. The virus just decided it wanted your brain instead. Attacking your nervous system, that virus is the reason why your heart was all out of sorts. It’s why your lungs refuse to work. Why everything you eat makes you feel sick. The thing is, there is absolutely no way to treat this like a typical illness.”

Kirk sat up. “Then what do we do?”

McCoy clenched his jaw. He never took work home with him. If he did, he’d have gone mad. But this particular case was keeping him up at night. He fought back the tears as hard as he could.

“I don’t know.” He jabbed at Kirk’s chest, “But getting your lungs to work is what we gotta focus on. We’re gonna treat the symptoms. I can’t just let you suffer. I can’t, Jim. I can’t.”

Kirk saw the fight McCoy was putting up. There were some days Kirk cursed him, because he thought the doctor wasn’t doing enough. It was just another psychological mind game that Kirk was playing. McCoy purposely letting him suffer, or that he was too incompetent to do his job. But neither of that was the case. Kirk knew it, but some days were just so hard to cope with what was happening to him. He wanted to blame everything and everyone but the virus itself.

“Bones…you’re working so hard. And I hope, at least, something…something good is going to come from all of this. If it means we can help a bunch of people—“

“But I’m not helping you. And all the countless people who are like you, Jim. We’re only one fucking starship. There’s not enough of us to help!”

McCoy paced around, his brows furrowed in deep concentration. “Active recovery. That’s what we’ve been doing, that’s what we’ll continue to do. I’ll be right back.”

Sickbay was disturbingly quiet. Kirk wished there was more noise, but he had to contend with the wheeze from his lungs that settled in his back. Without the distraction, all his other ailments were rising to prominence. The burn that rose through his throat into his left nostril, the lingering migraine, the all encompassing compression around his diaphragm.

_Just go away. Go the fuck away. Why won’t this fucking go away!_

“You and Spock are gonna switch spots for a little bit,” McCoy came back into the room. He had a new hypospray and an inhaler.

“We’re what now?”

“Spock is still going to be acting captain, and you’re going to be the first officer.”

Kirk frowned.

“Jim, I’m not letting you take on all that work from the get-go. Besides, you’re missing the point. I’m letting you get back to work!”

“As first officer.”

“Now is not the time to get greedy.”

He knew he should be happy. McCoy was at least letting him return to somewhat of a functional life. Somewhat functional. What a god damn joke. There was so much stripped of him, he barely recognized himself. The least he could tell himself was that he was still captain, and even that was coming into question. No he shouldn’t be greedy, but it seemed logical enough to allow himself the feeling. Kirk had been through too much mentally to be humble.

“Still original agreement though? If I’m absolutely needed—“

“You’re still the captain of The Enterprise, Jim. Your duties are just going to fall more in line with what Spock does.”

McCoy shot the hypo into Kirk’s arm. “In the meantime, I’m starting a medicinal regimen for you. We’re gonna see what treating you for asthma does.”

“Hence the inhaler.”

McCoy nodded. “Inhaler every six hours. For a week. Then use it as you need. You’re gonna get a hypo every day too. Hopefully it’ll open up your airways.”

“So, even though I don’t have asthma, we’re pretending I have asthma?”

“Essentially yes.”

It didn’t take long for Kirk to get used to using an inhaler. He just wished that after a century of technological advances there would be a better, less embarrassing way to treat his breathing issues. McCoy understood, but he explained that it was still the most efficient way of getting medication deep into his bronchioles.

“I’m going to reevaluate you in a week. In the meantime, keep taking it easy. If you’re still holding up, I’ll let you merrily go back to the bridge.”

“Hold up, why the sudden change? Why are you letting me go back to work?”

“That noggin of yours needs to work. I know this is going to sound incredibly scary, but I’m thinking of how doctors approach early signs of Alzheimers. We gotta get your brain working again; critical analysis, adrenaline, quick decisions…maybe a return to normalcy will fix everything.”

McCoy frowned and thought better of that last sentence. He didn’t want to flood Kirk with too much hope.

“That’s a big maybe.”

Kirk sighed, lying back down on the biobed. He could feel an inkling of relief from the medicine already. “I know. Experimenting. And I get to be the fucking guinea pig.”

* * *

**60 Days.**

He was elated to be able to put on his uniform again. Even if he did need to make a trip to the quartermaster; down 10 pounds, he can’t just keep pulling up his pants all day. But he was still elated to walk the halls of His ship looking as though nothing happened. The only remnants of his initial illness was the EKG reader on his wrist. McCoy was adamant about that piece of tech.

Spock was nowhere to be found on the bridge. In fact most of the bridge was empty compared to the last time he visited. For a moment he thought the worst: The virus was spreading through the ship. Come to think of it, the decks were emptier as well.

“Okay, someone has to enlighten me. Why is no one here?”

It was Kirk, Uhura, and Sulu on the bridge. From time to time Scotty would drop by, but that in itself was rare.

“We had to delegate tasks differently,” Uhura murmured. She was focused on her communications. As of now there was a daily briefing happening and she had to make sure the connection was stable.

“Every science officer is working on research. If their precise skill doesn’t fall in line with biology or virology or medicine, they’re pouring over research and establishing methods in an overall sense.”

Kirk gaped at Sulu. Okay, so lots of things had changed. He was updated on how much The Enterprise was involved in this sector’s viral outbreak. The ship was trapped here since no one could really guess as to how many people had the virus lying dormant in their bodies. They had a duty to protect themselves and the rest of the universe to stop the spread.

“And everyone else?” Kirk looked around again. “Spock was saying something about essential workers. I kinda lost track.”

“If you don’t provide an essential function to the operation of the ship, then you’re not required to show up for duty.” Sulu shrugged, there wasn’t really any other way to explain it without making people feel unneeded.

“There’s been a lot of interest though from unessential crew mates,” Uhura went on to her secondary task which was checking navigation. “So we’ve been creating study pods, with a science officer leading them.”

Kirk didn’t need to question why Spock made that difficult decision. The morale of the crew was incredibly important. Kirk was proud to hear that his crew was willing to pull together and help, even when they had no expertise. Even a simple coffee run was a major help to a group of stressed out researchers.

They’ve had boring stints in space before, but this one was maddening. Kirk needed a distraction, because now all he was starting to think about was the weight on his chest again. He couldn’t focus on that, he couldn’t.

He stood up and meandered over to the ready room, “I’m gonna find some paperwork to do, or something.”

Both Uhura and Sulu glanced at each other. Kirk? Paperwork? Captain Kirk doing paperwork? Blasphemy.

It really was a shame Kirk barely used this ready room. It was large enough to walk around in, but still small enough for it to feel personal. Comfy chair, comfy couch, the coolest desk imaginable. Kirk intended to sit at that desk, but Spock changed his plans.

The Vulcan was sitting on the couch, his head pressed into his templed hands, elbows resting on his knees. It looked as though he was in deep contemplation, until Kirk got closer.

Spock was wide-eyed. His eyes were watery, but Kirk couldn’t tell if it was because he was crying or if he kept them open for too long. It looked like he saw a ghost.

“Spock?” Kirk waved his hand in front of him. He kneeled down, touching Spock’s knee. “Spock? What’s wrong?”

He shook his head to erase the trance. The world flooded back into Spock’s eyes. Kirk was there before him, eyes intently staring.

“I was reminded—a cry of Vulcans dying.” Spock shook his head again, the feeling was hard to shake. “Every morning, McCoy and I take a daily briefing from one of the planets in this system. This morning…I am increasingly getting more perturbed by the death counts. It is disturbing. Three million. Across all planets. And all I can remember is the horrific cry I once heard of Vulcans dying. To feel life suddenly end, to feel it petrify and break…to snap…

“Do these people cry the same when they die?”

When Spock showed emotion like this it made Kirk uncomfortable. It had to amass for a long time before Spock became overwhelmed. He wished Spock would talk to him more, to confess more rather than suffer in silence.

Spock fell into Kirk’s arms, hugging him tightly (but just delicately enough as not to constrain his breathing). Kirk could only press his head into the crook of Spock’s neck, taking in every bit of him.

“Would you make that same cry,” Spock croaked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My goal (and it still is) was to go to the park and walk as much as possible. I used to powerlift and do crazy bootcamp style workouts, so covid really destroyed everything I had going for me. I even attempted 2 bodyweight workouts, but that dangerously spiked my heart rate. So that had to stop immediately. When I was finally allowed to see a doctor (TWO MONTHS LATER WTF), I was told I'm gonna have to live my life like I have asthma since there's hardly any information on Long Covid (and less so back in May). Everything I wanted to improve on was just gone.
> 
> Walking was about all I had left, so I put on some Beethoven and walked and walked and walked.


	7. Fantasy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm falling in love with my first officer. This isn't a crush anymore. This is like god damn romance movie soulmate shit. Wait, does that mean I am the damsel in distress?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a few rules for writing fan fiction that I somehow always break:  
> Rule 4: No hand jobs in the kitchen  
> Rule 98: Leg Day is every day  
> Rule 238: NO KISSING ON THE BRIDGE

**84 Days.**

Kirk could see the man speak, he could hear him. He was definitely speaking a language he could understand. But his brain could not translate anything that was going on.

He took on the morning briefings these past two weeks. Everything had been fine. Kirk would discuss possible plans of action as well as relate any progress being made on The Enterprise. It was all pretty standard, nothing he hadn’t done before. An ensign could do it if they weren’t thick headed.

Yet when Chief Medical Officer Ossa Enaga of the planet Liordi was speaking, Kirk’s brain shut off. All he could do was stare, he couldn’t even nod once or twice to invoke that he was listening. McCoy was sitting next to him, at least he could defer to him.

If he could speak.

So he just sat there while Enaga kept asking Kirk to respond.

“Cfgepgn?”

Kirk shook his head. It was like the world around him stopped existing. It was only his body and his mind was trapped, trying to scream so anyone could hear. His stream of consciousness was there, but where was his voice? Why couldn’t he move?

_Bones, please. Please just respond. Take this over for me. Oh god just take the hint. I can’t fucking respond. Why? What?_

“Skfkjfry, dweu hgd a djhjhjourontn,” McCoy continued. “Wjfh’e thgjfhng jo sieuce ehfhyting dhfhwn to akjfll tekjhe pnajnts nf tnhfe sjfklar shgysnem.”

Kirk blinked a few times. _What the fuck did he just say?_

It went away as quickly as it came. McCoy was discussing how they were preparing to take samples from every ecosystem found in the solar system to see if there’s any commonalities with dormant infections. Perhaps it was in the dust, or the rocks themselves, or maybe even tree sap. They just didn’t know at this point.

“We’re willing to take the risks. Biosuits and everything,” Kirk finally answered. “We’ll need volunteers.”

“Volunteers?”

“Since we’ve been able to test for antibodies, we’ve found that recovered patients respond really well to the vaccine. They’re basically immune.” McCoy sent over a file with testing results and patient profiles. “The issue is that it’s only found in a small amount of recovered patients: Those that have been infected neurologically.”

Enaga frowned. He didn’t like the information he was given, and McCoy didn’t like telling it to him.

“Doctor, neurological patients hardly recover.”

McCoy and Kirk glanced at each other.

No fucking shit.

“But when they do, they prove to be the most resilient survivors.”

“We don’t expect a huge turnout to help,” Kirk was on the verge of pleading, “but we need help. Anyone who qualifies, just a simple offer, a simple offer for them to help out. That’s all we’re asking.”

Enaga sent over some of his own files. “I will confer with my team. There are not many on this planet who meet your specifications. Do not fall into false hope.”

“Believe me, Mr. Enaga. I am well aware of how detrimental false hope is,” Kirk wished him well before disconnecting.

He turned to McCoy who was practically dissecting every bit of him.

“What?”

“What the hell was that?”

“What was what?”

McCoy and Kirk lunged at the medical tricorder at the same time. The doctor pried it out of his hands. “You’re not stopping me from doing my job, James.”

“You point that thing at me and I’m gonna be sent back to my quarters!” He dodged McCoy and ran out of the room. “I’m not going off-duty again!”

McCoy didn’t bother to run after him. He knew too well that Kirk’s brief sprint would have him keeled over precisely three doors down from where he was. So he strode to the door as casually as possible and looked in both directions.

And there Kirk was grasping his chest and leaning forward exactly three doors down to McCoy’s right.

“This is where your inhaler would help.” McCoy held up the tricorder.

“Shut. Up.”

“I promise I won’t send you off duty. I’m just curious. You practically stopped functioning.”

Kirk leaned against the wall, still trying to catch his breath. “I stopped being able to process speech. You ever just hear words, but they have no meaning?”

“Of course, whenever Spock speaks.”

“I’m being serious,” Kirk rolled his eyes. “The words were there. I knew it was in Federation Standard. The universal translator wasn’t malfunctioning. And then I just, forgot how to speak.”

“You forgot how to speak?” McCoy pondered, “so that’s why you weren’t responding.”

“For a split second nothing registered. It was just sounds and lights. It had no meaning to me. All I had was my own consciousness and the physical weight of my body withstanding gravity.”

“Any other times this happened?”

“Hmmm, the other day I forgot how to text? I was trying to send Spock a message and I completely forgot how to do it. I mean, there’s been plenty of times I’d forget something, but I just wrote it off as being tired. I mean we all get brain fog once in a while.”

“Brain fog doesn’t make you forget how to talk, Jim.”

* * *

“You scheduled us alone on the bridge?”

Spock was at his post, he was just about to let Uhura go for the day. Most of the crew had been rotating through different day parts, to try and stop the monotony. It was a battle that could be easily lost, and both Kirk and Spock were trying to come up with a better plan. Maybe rotational weeks on and off duty.

“Two people during gamma, right? So why not us?” He sat at the helm, making sure everything was still in check. “Besides, you need an excuse not to bury your head in research and diplomatic nonsense.”

“Captain…”

“I’ve been delegated all the tasks a first officer should do, and that also means looking out for the person who was delegated all the tasks a captain should do.”

Before Uhura left she patted Kirk on the back, “you’re going to lose this fight you know.”

Spock waited precisely 4.73 minutes before he approached Kirk at the helm. He was lounging back in his chair staring up at the ceiling smirking.

“I know precisely why you’ve scheduled this.” The Vulcan circled Kirk, dragging his fingers along his tense shoulders. “It breaks a cardinal rule.”

“And that would be?” He knew the cardinal rule. The bridge was to always be a place of professionalism, no shenanigans that you wouldn’t want to share with the rest of Starfleet. But Spock was right, there really was one reason why he scheduled them alone.

It was a heated kiss. The most heated they had so far. Spock was still gentle, giving Kirk plenty ability to breathe as best as he could. Even if it meant sacrificing touching Kirk’s cooled skin for a prolonged amount of time. For just a kiss, it was a pleasurable experience. Kirk practically pulled Spock on top of him, yearning to get his hands on his neck. The two were probing each other’s mouths, exploring. Spock couldn’t help it, he started to roll his hips against the human underneath him.

Kirk broke away, gasping for breath. “Spock. No. As much as I want. Even I can’t let us.”

“I apologize,” he ran a hand through Kirk’s hair. “There is something about you that tends to eliminate my spatial awareness.”

A breathless laugh. “Same. Definitely fulfilled my fantasy though.”

“Fantasy?”

Soft fingers traced Spock’s lips. His eyes were so dark with desire but bright with hope. Still trying his hardest to catch his breath, but so calm. Such an oxymoronic man sitting underneath him was the most logical thing in this room.

“I’ve had many, many, countless shifts sitting here just thinking about throwing you to the floor and fucking your brains out. A desire. A devilish desire.” Kirk continued to trace the features of Spock’s face. “My fantasy is this. Sharing a moment with the stars above us, right on the bridge. Just the two of us, no one to interrupt. You aren’t afraid to lower your shields around me. I’m not afraid to show you my weaknesses. And we just kiss, because you want to be with me.”

Spock wiped away the tears rolling down Kirk’s cheeks. He couldn’t understand why he was crying, but like all human emotions it was complicated. The source of them could be entirely illogical.

“Sad tears or happy tears,” he asked, “I am unsure how to read you.”

“Bittersweet,” Kirk sniffled. “I’m living my fantasy, but it’s killing me inside knowing that every time we kiss I’m left feeling like I was strangled.”

It was a risk, especially on the bridge. But it was gamma shift. Most everyone was asleep at this point. Spock figured he could allow himself twenty minutes, he’d even set a timer to keep track.

He held his hand up to Kirk’s face. “May I? I’d like to try something.”

“A meld?”

“A meld.”

Kirk nodded and let Spock press his fingers against the appropriate spots on his face. He consented to Spock’s mind approaching his, something he’d done before. He was prepared for the familiar joining of the minds, the tangling and twisting of synapses, but when he opened his eyes he was still on the bridge.

Spock was still there on top of him, but the look in his eyes alerted Kirk to the fact that this was a meld, a far different meld than he knew about or experienced.

“Where are we?”

“Our minds. I’m projecting a familiar space. Our bodies here represent our consciousness.”

“Like a dream?”

“I suppose that would be a good description.” Spock lied his hands on top of Kirk’s chest. “I understand now. Oh Jim, I truly understand now.”

Spock’s eyes glimmered with tears of empathy. He was feeling all of Kirk’s hopelessness, all of his pain, all of the miserable seconds he was awake and trying to breathe. Spock wished he could take it all away, but all he could do was simply erase it in this meld.

“Spock,” Kirk breathed, a real deep normal breath, “oh my god, I can breathe.”

“I deeply want this to be permanent. But I can only give this gift to you here.”

Kirk smashed his lips against Spock’s in a desperate attempt to take advantage of the limited time he’d have. A feeling of normalcy, where he could breathe and kiss someone he’d been admiring for so long. He didn’t have to hold back anymore.

On the bridge and under the stars, he was able to hold Spock in his arms as they kissed. No worries about the outside world. The two were only concerned with the bliss they shared in their meld, until a pesky alarm sounded.

“What’s that,” Kirk pulled away.

“An unfortunate reminder to return to duty.” Spock gave him another kiss. “Brace yourself and remember where you truly are. I cannot afford you to go into shock.”

He carefully unraveled their minds. Kirk had never felt the breakage of a meld like this before. The last one he had was a sudden end, but this time Spock intended to bring him back into reality with ease.

_“I’m letting go of you now, but I’m still here. I’m still right here holding you.”_

The constricting coil around Kirk’s chest returned, he tried to take a breath with the familiarity of what a normal inhale should be, but it didn’t come. At least Spock kept his word, his forehead rested on his while the warmth surrounded his entire body.

“Jim, I am sorry. I’m so sorry. I should not. I should not have-“

“-given me a much needed break? I will cherish what you did for me for a lifetime. You gave me a small piece of normalcy where I thought I’d never find it again.”

It must have been the way Spock slowly untangled their minds, and their close proximity, and the fact Spock was holding Kirk’s head in his hands. The fading link between them illuminated a pure untouched emotion. It was no longer curiosity, or lust or playful infatuation, a crush as Kirk explained it later.

“Jim, I may have invoked…I don’t know what this is.”

He removed himself from Kirk’s body, removed him from his sight. Spock clasped his hands behind his back, deep in thought while Kirk straightened out his shirt and returned to his senses.

“I spent the better part of a year crushing on you, wanting to fuck you, kiss you, anything. I knew there was something more but, you know like trying to get you to date me or something…not..”

“Not?”

Spock stole a glance. Kirk was staring at the floor, trying to hide his own face.

“I’m past that. I think I’m falling really really hard for you.”

“I see.”

He didn’t.

Maybe this was all a mistake. They still had an entire shift here together, and Kirk was trying his best not to ruin what they just shared. But he swore Spock could feel that inkling of love too. Then again he was a Vulcan and maybe it meant something different to him.

Kirk had to wrestle with his feelings. This wasn’t about courtship or merely fucking Spock’s brains out anymore. It was a deep love that surpassed anything he felt for another person. He could easily see himself spending the rest of his life with Spock, despite their physical and more intimate relationship being so new.

And what if this disease was making all of these feelings a lie?

“Spock, I think I lov-“

There was an alert coming from communications. Kirk and Spock both looked at the empty station where one of the connections dropped. The failed channel was gleaming red.

“The hell?” Kirk ran to the station where he attempted to reconnect. “Olgorum,” he muttered.

“Enterprise to Olgorum, come in.” He listened for a few moments before trying again.

Spock was alerted to navigation, another alarm went off. Cartography at the helm was telling him something very very concerning.

“Spock to stellar cartography,” there was someone posted there at this time of night, right? “Shit,” he muttered.

“No answer from Olgorum. There’s no reason why a channel would fail like this. Everything is in check, I trust Uhura to make sure everything is in working order before she leaves—“

“This isn’t a failure on our end, come here.”

Kirk approached the helm where he saw the readings.

“What the hell?” He reset everything on stellar cartography’s channel, but it was still showing the same thing. “Olgorum just …. disappeared.”

“I sense something sinister,” Spock mused. “There’s been rising tensions through out this entire sector. I’ve gotten more than one call complaining about Olgorum in recent days.”

“I was getting those too,” Kirk tried the channel again, but it was still unresponsive. “Care to make a house call?”

“We should head to Olgorum’s coordinates.”

“That’s what I just said!” He set the coordinates on the helm and prepared to pilot the ship. Kirk had to laugh.

“Hardly a laughing matter, captain.”

“No, I was just thinking how it’s been a while since I piloted a starship.”

Spock gave Kirk the slightest frown, “my previous sentence still stands.”

“I’ll be fine! It’s only a massive hunk of metal suspended in space with over 400 people on it!”

“James,” Spock growled.

If the situation was any different, he’d tell Spock how much that aroused him. But he let it go, they unfortunately had more pressing matters.

“Scan for debris.” Kirk focused on his controls. Despite it being an incredibly complicated piece of machinery, piloting the Enterprise was much like driving anything else. The skill never truly left.

“Assuming the worst?”

“Yeah,” he checked his readings once more. “A planet just doesn’t disappear like this unless…”

Spock sighed. “I do hope it is a simple malfunction, or Olgorum’s government responding to tensions.” He returned to his own station and looked over the data the Enterprise was pulling from the solar system. He fully grimaced at the readings.

“Nothing good comes from a reaction like that,” Kirk noted.

“The gravitational pull is fluctuating in this system, causing a remarkable disturbance in its structure.”

“Spock, how many people lived on Olgorum?”

“Around 4 billion.”

The two looked at each other. It didn’t need to take a mind meld to read each other’s thoughts. Olgorum was gone, according to the data. There wasn’t any other conclusion. The two hours it took to reach the planet was dreadful. Kirk and Spock barely spoke of anything other than records and statistics.

They arrived at Olgorum’s coordinates. There was nothing as regards to comm channels. None of the satellites, none of the standard greeting messages. Just a field of debris. Kirk had been dodging clumps of rock for the past half hour, but he didn’t want to accept it.

“Spock,” he gasped. “It’s actually gone.”

“Four billion people,” Spock whispered.

“Who and how? How do you just destroy a planet?!”

An approaching ship hailed them. Spock took the call.

“This is the Enterprise. May we request who is hailing us?”

The hailing ship did not entertain Spock’s request.

“Leave this sector and do not ever come back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Covid brain is speshul. Not special. SPESHUL. I've been more angry, I've snapped at people more than I care to admit. I've forgotten how to text message, type on the computer, BREATHING, and speaking. You try to speak but nothing happens so you just stand there with everything blaring at you and you're in this weird black hole sucking you in. It's quite an experience. Hell, I'm a barista. One time I got so overwhelmed at work, I forgot how to brew coffee. I FORGOT A FUNDAMENTAL PART OF MY JOB.
> 
> I'm basically on the same level as Jim here: Please don't keep me from coming to my job. It's literally the only thing keeping me from going batshit insane.


	8. Get Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "If it were just me I'd stay. I'd stay and fight for these people. I have a crew to worry about. I can't use them as pawns. This isn't the end of it. I will not forget."

**100 Days.**

“I do not agree with this.”

Kirk slipped on his mask, he was going despite everyone’s suggestions not to. “I know you don’t agree, but I am the most viable person on this ship.”

“You are also the most at-risk person on this ship.” Spock stood at the door of the transporter room. He decided to take a chance at insubordination. “Doctor McCoy said it very clearly. Your recovery is not black or white. A fully immune survivor needs to be fully recovered.”

Kirk stepped onto the transporter. “Miordi’s ambassador wants to talk. And they want to do it in person. So guess what? I’m going. Sorry, but I’m deeply disturbed by a planet’s government that murdered 4.3 billion people. I want to get to the bottom of it.”

Spock reluctantly took the controls of the transporter. A strange feeling crept over his mind like a fog. It was uncertainty if he just sent his captain, his best friend, and his lover to his death.

Kirk arrived to an entourage of people waiting to escort him. He was slightly miffed that they couldn’t see his angry frown through his mask, but hopefully his furrowed brows got the point across.

Murderers. All fucking murderers.

A woman clad in pearlescent robes approached Kirk.

“Your refusal to leave this sector is troubling, Mr. Kirk.” She too was wearing a mask, but he could see smirk flash across her face. “I should have you and every one of you on that ship arrested. You have no business meddling in matters here.”

“And you have no business murdering billions of people.”

“Even though they were the ones who spread this horrific evil across our solar system? Wouldn’t you want to punish those willingly making others sick?”

He stiffened. She was playing into his sickness, whether she knew it or not. The anger he felt at the Olgoriums never left. Of course there were moments when he was gasping for breath that he wished for specific people’s deaths.

“There were innocents! Those who had no control over what their shitty government was doing! Children? Children,” he screamed. “You really think a fucking child would willingly spread disease!?”

“I do not care where you come from, but this is our way. We eradicate. Unfortunate for innocent souls lost but it must be done.”

She held out a binder at arms’ length for Kirk. He grabbed it.

“A formal request from Miordi, Liordi and Ifcusum for you to leave.”

“What about Osum?”

“Osum is such a small planet, their opinion hardly matters.”

“And what if I refuse?”

“Then I will give the order right here and now to destroy your ship and then have you jailed for the rest of your miserable existence.”

He flipped through the proposal. A bunch of legalese formal bullshit that made “get the fuck out” sound nice. Kirk threw the binder to the ground.

“Mr. Spock. Beam me up.”

Kirk stormed off the transporter pad. He didn’t acknowledge Spock until his first officer touched his shoulder.

“Cap—Jim. Perhaps your involvement—“

He stopped abruptly, refusing to look at Spock. He’s heard it before and he’ll keep hearing it: He’s still sick, he’s too involved, he’s too emotional, he’s too incapacitated.

“Don’t fucking talk to me, Commander. Go to the bridge and lay in a course to Starbase 3432. Now.”

It was an order and Kirk didn’t need the confirmation from Spock to know he’d carry it out. The two were at odds debating each other over the right course of action. Spock wanted to leave the sector, using the Prime Directive as precedent. Kirk argued back saying that the exposure to the Enterprise and his own illness allowed them to be involved at least partly. Olgorum could have been key to a cure for all they knew, but now knowing for sure was impossible. Kirk fought Spock all the way laying out his arguments every morning as he arrived on the bridge. They’d stay in the sector, albeit on the very edge of the solar system.

Kirk leaned against the bulkhead. He pulled out his inhaler. Reluctantly using it, he found relief. The thing he hated about it was how it made him feel like he just had four cups of coffee; jittery with his heart aflutter.

“Kirk to McCoy, I’m in the transporter room. No alerts from the biofilters, but I’m sure you’ll want to check them.”

“Of course I want to check them. And I’m going to check you. I think we finally found a better testing method.”

“Well, until you get here I’ll run a preliminary scan on the transporter. Hopefully this thing functions like it should, otherwise we’re going to all be trapped on this ship no matter where in space we end up.”

McCoy terminated the comm with a sigh. It didn’t take long for the doctor to arrive at transporter room one. He met Kirk who was propping himself up on the control panel.

“You look tired.”

“I may have over done it while I was yelling.”

“It might occur to you that when you yell you’re using more of your lungs which you don’t have. And you’re one of the few people that can actually say wearing a mask makes it hard to breathe.”

McCoy opened his medkit and pulled out a swab. “Go ahead, finally take the mask off.”

It was a relief. Finally having unobstructed access to air felt like a refreshing drink of water. The refreshment didn’t last. McCoy caught Kirk by surprise, grabbing the captain’s head to hold it still while he rammed the swab up his nose.

“WHAT THE FUCKING HELL ON EARTH,” Kirk gagged. He tried to pull away and push McCoy back, but the doctor had a good hold on him.

McCoy finally pulled the swab from deep inside Kirk’s nose and placed it in a device that extracted the swab’s contents. It was a normal rapid testing device, but McCoy and his team finally found a workaround to the original testing supplies Olgorum gave them. It let him implement the same kind of test without it being locked due to the lack of symptoms.

“Sorry Jim, had to be done.”

“You didn’t need to scrape my brain!”

“Stop yelling or you’re going to collapse a lung.”

The results came back negative. Kirk was in the clear to go back to his duties.

“By the way, the biofilters didn’t detect anything. That’s just the prelim. We’re gonna need a full workup, and I want it checked and checked again. Finish it within 56 hours.” Kirk scrunched his nose, the tingling feeling from the swab wouldn’t leave. “I swear to god, don’t fucking sneak that on me ever again.”

Kirk left McCoy to wonder just how much stress his captain would be able to tolerate.

* * *

“Did Jim bite your head off earlier?” McCoy sat down across from Spock. It was late, only a few people were eating meals, mostly people were stopping by for a snack before heading out to meet up with their friends. Since implementing a rotational schedule and finding out that they were leaving the sector, the crews’ morale exploded in positivity. Of course the senior officers and department leaders were still stressed. It felt like the nightmare was dragging on and on.

Spock nodded. He could have chosen to fight McCoy on the phrase he used, but it was pointless to add to an already tense situation.

“Jim has been quick to anger lately. Ever since we were told to leave, he’s been quite on edge.”

“I’m worried about him.”

“As am I.” Spock steepled his fingers. “Upon examination, he does not want what happened to him to happen to others on this ship.”

“Always feeling like he’s responsible for things that are impossible.”

“Quite illogical of him, isn’t it?”

McCoy sipped on his coffee. Another long night of reports. Kirk wasn’t joking when he ordered his medical staff to get everything in order to prepare for docking at Starbase 3432. At least the coffee would help.

“I’m also taking it that he’s assumed his normal duties on the ship, against my better judgement?”

“If it makes you feel any better doctor, I do monitor his capabilities.”

“Checking his lung capacity by kissing him in empty rooms is not what I’d consider monitoring, Spock.”

Spock nearly choked on the bite of food he’d taken. “I was not referring to-“

“-Oh hush up I know what you two have been up to. He told me.” McCoy frowned as there was no more coffee left in his cup. Time for another. “Keep him grounded for me, Spock. It’s going to take him a while to fully understand what he’s not capable of anymore.”

“I constantly remind him, Doctor.”

“As a first officer.”

Spock nodded.

McCoy grabbed another cup of coffee, watching a few ensigns laughing and telling stories at the table on the opposite side of the hall. He envied them. It sparked a realization that he should have had earlier. Kirk didn’t need his medical officer, he didn’t need his first officer or his senior staff.

He needed his friends.

“Can you imagine how lonely Jim must feel?”

Spock put down his utensils. “I know all too well. I felt it.”

“Felt it?”

“I melded with him.”

“And what was that like? Did his illness affect your meld?”

“I suppose it made him more susceptible. Even with a willing participant and a—um—romantic interest, a mind should not have been so easily captured.”

McCoy could have sworn he saw Spock blush.

“I doubt he will ever verbally confess how lonely he is,” Spock continued. “It is a deep hopelessness that surrounds every action, thought, breath, and sentence he speaks. I captured this loneliness only for a moment. It was too deeply painful I had to shove it away. I couldn’t bear to feel any more of it. Admittedly I felt guilty because I have the ability to repress it while he must constantly live with it.”

“You? You feeling guilty?” The doctor rested his head in his hands. “Then that really means Jim is suffering. Is there anything you could do? Do some weird mind healing mumbo jumbo witchcraft thing?”

Spock wrestled with this since he and Kirk melded on the bridge. A Vulcan healer could help, but just like any mental illness the possibilities were endless. A Vulcan can’t cure PTSD, but they could make a person forget certain thoughts: It was only a mask.

They still didn’t know the true effects of the virus. There were three main categories for victims: Respiratory, Cardiovascular, and Neurological. No one knew why the virus attacked one person differently than the other. The neurological victims had it the worst, incurable symptoms that could only be masked. Their only hope was to struggle through until they fully recovered, and full recovery only happened in 5 percent of the victims. Jim at this point had a better chance at getting hit by a hover car.

“If your so-called witchcraft existed, I’d have no qualms with curing Jim.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I celebrated 100 days of Long Covid hell with my very first beer in months. Elysian Salute the Sun. Hit me like a bus lmao.  
> The intense loneliness I feel still lingers. Just sitting in a very very deep dark hole...


	9. Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm only certain of two things: I love Spock and I want revenge."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is kinda weird. Then again covid brain is weird, and beyond.

Kirk was starting to resent the question.

“How’ve you been?”

_I can’t fucking breathe what else is there._

He’d shrug. “I’m here.”

Probably not the best answer to receive from a commanding officer, but there wasn’t anything else he cared to share. Kirk wasn’t going to divulge in his plan to save that sector they were forced to leave. He wasn’t going to describe how boring his forced shore leave was. He definitely was not going to allude to anything that he and Spock did off-duty.

So Kirk kept shrugging and telling people that stopped him that he was merely, “there.”

Starbase 3432 was on a beautiful planet. It was a small tropical paradise in a sea of dismal uninhabitable rocks. It was a haven for the very few Starfleet ships that visited, since there weren’t many visitors at all.

Forced shore leave. Maybe any other time he’d enjoy simply sitting on the beach listening to the waves. Kirk fought hard. McCoy ordered him off the ship.

“I don’t care what you do. I don’t care if you still do paperwork. I don’t care if you’re still administering orders from the damn planet, you’re not stepping foot on this ship until we’re ready to leave again.”

Kirk lied a towel on the sand. He opened up a large umbrella for shade. Spock told him he’d be planet-side in a couple of hours. Might as well struggle to breathe on a beach in the warm sun than struggle to breathe in a sterile-looking room.

Of course, struggling to breathe was just his go-to phrase. He was seeing improvement, at least he could manage to walk 5 miles without any intense lung pain. The issue here was the weather. It regularly stormed in the late afternoon, and Kirk would suffer until it stopped. The combination of rain and humidity and the lightning in the air choked him. And if it got too hot then he’d suffer as well. His lungs would tighten and he’d have find refuge in his room, air conditioning cooling the room to a tolerable 62 Fahrenheit.

Tropical fucking paradise.

He threw off his shirt and took pleasure in the sun’s rays beating down on his skin. This was undoubtedly the part of this forced shore leave he liked. The calm before the inevitable misery. He could be alone and think.

Osum. He was worried about that little planet. On their way out of the sector the ship picked up readings that its gravitational stability in the solar system was thrown off due to Olgorum’s destruction. He wondered if it was still holding up.

Ifcusum. The last documents the Enterprise received noted how the planet had a concentration of people like him. So what was special about that planet?

Miordi and Liordi. The sister planets. The two governments where helpful when it came to scientific research. Yet Miordi seemed to have control over the entire system as far as security went. Was that their purpose? To murder when faced with inconveniences?

Kirk could feel the wheeze of his lungs in his back. He figured that maybe if he lied directly on the sand it would help. Blazing heat engulfed him. It penetrated deep down to his core, relieving months of tension.

He drifted into a light sleep, the waves crashing nearby kept him from completely zonking out. His thoughts drifted to more peaceful scenarios: Spock holding him late at night, his hands running through his hair. Kirk completely submitting to Spock as he splays him over the helm—

“Jim?”

Kirk bolted upright. He must had drifted into a deeper sleep than he thought. Or maybe Vulcans were just that silent.

“I didn’t know you owned a pair of swim trunks.”

“On occasion I find swimming to be the best form of exercise.” He sat down on the towel and brushed the sand off Kirk’s back. Kirk closed his eyes and grinned. The simple gesture fulfilled the domesticity he craved.

He really needed to tell Spock.

“You busy for the rest of the night? I mean, I don’t really have anything for you to do.”

Spock shook his head. “I took the rest of the day off.”

“Yeah?”

“It would be better spent with you.”

Kirk couldn’t help himself. The outward display of affection from Spock was everything to him. Nervousness settled in his stomach. Kirk threw himself onto Spock, caressing and kissing him as he hit the ground with a grunt. He didn’t care if he ran out of breath, he needed to feel Spock underneath him while he kissed every inch of exposed skin. Soft velvety smooth skin that drove him wild. How in the hell was it so soft?

Spock arched his back as Kirk drug his tongue from his belly button up to his chest. He grabbed Kirk’s hair, stifling moans.

“Spock,” Kirk continued to kiss, “we’re the only ones here.”

Kirk licked along Spock’s thigh bones, the Vulcan couldn’t stifle it any longer.

“Lower?”

“J-Jim,” Spock gasped.

“Lower.”

“Wait.”

Spock propped himself up on his elbows, he was trying to recover. His arousal was there, but his mind, his logic told him to stop.

“Jim, you are gasping for air.”

He was. He wanted to keep pursuing though. He wanted so much to suck off Spock. Kirk wanted to hear Spock groan. He actually didn’t care about his own state, he just wanted to hear Spock be so far removed from logic.

“I really don’t care about that right now.”

Kirk moved towards Spock once more, but the Vulcan placed his hand carefully on Kirk’s cheek.

“I cannot. I will not.”

“Spock,” Kirk sighed. He tried to take a few deep breaths (all failed of course). “Please? I want to give everything to you, I want you to feel good. You’ve done so much for me let me do something for you.”

Spock shook his head and leaned into Kirk. A chaste kiss. “I cannot when you are like this. Pleasure should not come at the expense of your health.” He took one of Kirk’s hands. “I care for you, I do not want to hurt you.”

Kirk could feel a slight nudge in his mind. He’s never experienced something like this from a simple hand hold.

“What’s that?”

“Hmm?”

“This feeling?” He squeezed Spock’s hand. Strange and comforting.

“A deeply rooted … feeling.” Spock pulled Kirk over to him and held him. “I do not like the way you’re breathing right now.”

Kirk didn’t like how he was breathing either, but compared to the flickers of emotion he was feeling, it was an afterthought. They never let go of each other’s hands, and they spent twenty minutes in silence ignoring the very obvious emotion brewing between them.

“Spock.”

“Jim.”

“Seriously, what is this?”

Spock kissed Jim’s knuckles. It sparked the emotion into life. “Being a touch telepath has its drawbacks and its rewards. Our hands are important for both our species. We manipulate items, communicate, speak, and gesture. Think of how important our hands are and how important they are for a Vulcan.”

He drew his hand away from Kirk’s where the emotion flickered out like a dying candle. Then he drug the tip of his index finger along Kirk’s.

“You’re not a touch telepath, but you feel it don’t you?” He continued stroking Kirk’s palm.

Kirk’s breath caught in the most delightful way. He couldn’t begin to understand exactly what was happening to him. Sparks, tickles, and feathers were drawing up his arm and down his chest. It drew his mind into a flurry of colors and buzzing lights.

“I love you so much,” Kirk groaned. He threw his head back where Spock was able to kiss him down his throat.

“I love you,” Spock whispered in his ear.

Hand fucking was not on Kirk’s bucket list. Telling Spock he loved him while hand fucking was not how he wanted to tell him. And then there was the slight fear that Spock wouldn’t return his feelings. He was so relieved when Spock whispered those three words in his ear.

It took a while for Kirk to pull away. He didn’t think he could feel pleasured without being sexually aroused. Vulcans and their mind tricks: what a fucking trip.

“You love me?”

Kirk was sitting in Spock’s lap at this point, his legs wrapped around the Vulcan’s torso. The sun beat down on the two of them, even Spock was getting a slight sunburn.

“You love me,” he asked.

Kirk nodded. Spock ran ran a hand through Kirk’s hair.

“We love each other,” Kirk shuddered.

“Jim?”

He smiled, shaking his head. “It’s fine. It’s a thing now. I think Bones calls it paradoxical breathing.” He paused, clearly in disbelief. “You love me.”

Spock held Jim’s head in his hands. “I love you.”

* * *

Paradoxical breathing was more annoying than what Bones described it to be. When Jim was finally able to attain a deep breath, the shudder would run through his entire body. It was like recovering from a long crying session, nonstop. Every waking moment.

“You’ve been doing your breathing exercises, right,” Bones asked.

“Yeah. For the most part.”

Bones sighed. He wasn’t going to eviscerate Jim over it though, the captain had been dealing with a barrage of calls from his superiors. Something along the lines of pushing the limits of the Prime Directive, as well as a potential diplomatic crisis. Bones was pretty sure he came in on someone yelling about how stupid Kirk had to be to let an entire sector hate the Federation due to one interaction.

To which Bones silently bowed out of the room not wanting to hear the semantics of it all.

Jim surprised Bones when he showed up in the doorway of his office. He was flushed with embarrassment, annoyance, and overall exhaustion. He apologized to Bones, knowing the doctor walked in on his shouting match with the admiralty. Not even one of his best friends should see such a dismal display of professionalism.

“Jim, you’re shaking.”

Jim held up his hand, he was shaking. It must have been the adrenaline. “Everything about that meeting overwhelmed me.” He sunk down into a chair and let his head hang over the back.

“You want to talk about it?” Bones opened a drawer and pulled out a rather large bottle of whisky. “As friends. I’ve talked too much to you as your doctor.”

Jim lifted his head, “is that safe?”

“I’m your friend, who just happens to be a doctor. I’m sure you can manage.” He poured them both a glass.

The whisky burned just a bit too much from what he remembered, but its hit was a pleasurable spark. Two sips and Jim was already starting to feel it.

“Christ Bones did you get stronger shit or am I just that much of a lightweight?”

Bones laughed, already pouring his second glass. “See, this is what I need more of from you. You getting wasted on one glass so I can have more to myself.”

“You’re a great friend.”

“I merely want to keep my stash supplied for when we go into another empty shit hole in space.”

Jim finished off his glass. The burn satisfied him. He shook the thought of how pathetic it was that he was already entirely drunk, but then again Bones had a point. At least he didn’t have to go through half a bottle.

“Well then resupply cause we’re goin’ back.”

“You can’t—“

“They murdered a bunch of people. And if they had a cure then they can be liable to murder many many more. We’re goin’ back.”

Jim stood up and the room swayed along with him. He steadied himself on Bones’ desk and scowled. “One more.”

Bones poured him another glass. “Always here to facilitate bad decisions.”

“This is not a bad decision, this is” he fell back onto the chair, “a very very good one.”

“I’m taking it’s hitting you?”

Jim grinned. “Like a fucking bulkhead against the face.”

“Much like what you want to do to your bosses.”

“They can get off my fuckin’ back. The next person who tells me I went too far, Ima straight up pull out my black book and start readin’.”

Bones leaned forward, his interest in this black book was taking over everything else he had on his mind. He didn’t even know Jim kept such an item. “Oh?”

“I have blackmail lined up for allofem.”

“Do tell.”

Jim downed half the glass’s contents. He scrunched up his face and shook his head. “The details aren’t important. What’s important is that I’m not as trashed as everyone thinks I’m at Christmas parties.”

“So the whole fiasco last year was completely not your fault?”

“What fiasco?”

“With Janice.”

His eyes widened, what satisfied Bones the most was Jim’s total surprise while his stupid drunken look was still plastered on his face.

“What happ’d with Janice!? Is the’ why she transferred!? God damn it, dude I really liked her.”

“You liking her was not a secret.” Glass number 3. “I think she reveled in it any chance she got.”

“Yer not answering my ques’ion, though. What happen’ last year?”

Bones smirked. “She pulled you off somewhere. I dunno where.” He pulled out a padd, “Maybe we should call her.”

“Don you fuckin’” Jim rose from the chair and stumbled over to Bones trying his best to grab the padd out of the doctor’s hands.

“Oh noooo,” Bones pretended to feign concern over ‘accidentally’ initiating a call. He was sure she was off duty, it was 6 pm Federation Time.

It was about a minute before the call was answered. Janice was stunned to see Bones messaging her. “Hey! What’s up?”

Jim’s eyes widened. He tried grabbing the padd once more, but Bones was far too quick for a drunken idiot flailing about.

“Sorry about the random call, Jan. I gotta question.” He pushed Jim off of him. “Totally not official, don’t worry.”

“I can’t believe you act’ly fuckin’ called her,” Jim yelled as he fell to the floor. He scrambled up to get a glimpse.

“Oh my god is Jim with you?”

“NO,” Jim yelled as Bones said “YES.”

Janice laughed. She really missed the Enterprise. She missed going to the rec room every evening to hang out with Hikaru and Nyota. There were times when Jim invited her to drink with Scotty and Bones. Those would always be treasured memories. “You guys, it’s like 6. Why do you both sound shit faced?”

“I’m the one asking questions here,” Bones slurred. “We’re just two guys hanging out with nothing better to do, and dumb shit here got me thinking.”

“Hey!”

“Okay,” she pulled out her own bottle of alcohol. “Thank god I got a promotion, there’d be no way I could be alone for whatever the hell you two are going to shamefully do.”

“Now hold on, the only shaming we’re doing is to Jim. He’s been put through the ringer lately so as his dearest friend I have to embarrass him for my own entertainment.”

“Janice, don’t give into that!” Jim blushed when he saw her face. Okay he still thought she was cute. “As your former commandin’ officer and hopefully still good friend I ask you dun tell him a thing!”

“We were talking about blackmail,” Bones continued. “And I know you love this sort of thing.”

The smile crept slowly across her face. “You know me too well, McCoy.”

“So? What happened last year during the Christmas party?”

Janice took a long drink. “Um, am I even allowed to disclose that?”

“We’re all alone, aren’t we?”

Jim shook his head, but Janice relented. The one thing she missed about the Enterprise most of all was how some days rank flew out the window. Sass was and always would be the second most spoken language on the ship.

“Let’s see,” pondered, “Jim took too many shots because he was thrilled by the fact the shot glasses were made from ice. Then he started to follow me around, giving me all sorts of compliments. I really liked the compliments so I didn’t care.”

“I dun remember this,” Jim shook his head. “Why dun I remember this?”

“You were drunk,” Janice shrugged. “Anyways it gets late into the night and the party is starting to chill out. I felt really alone cause everyone I know is back home, not even on a starbase or on another ship that I could easily take leave to. So I grabbed Jim and we went to his room.”

“Why dun I remember any of this!?” Jim could only stammer at this point. The last thing he remembered from this party were the really awesome shot glasses made from ice.

“I pegged the fuck out of him,” Janice continued without missing a beat. “And you know what he did?”

Bones was fully enamored with the story. His sober self wouldn’t want any part in this knowledge, but his fifth glass was gone and he was now merrily smiling like a school boy admiring his crush from across the room. “And what did he do?”

“Fucker yelled out Spock’s name instead of mine!”

* * *

Kirk awoke in his bed gasping for breath. This was his most absurd dream to date. He could handle the ones about spiders wrapping everything in webs, he could handle giant rabbits taking over and eating people alive, but James Kirk could never handle work dreams. He refused to let his subconscious play around with him like that.

Of what little information they were able to keep, it turns out that vivid hallucinations and absurd dreams were indeed symptoms. The dreams at least were easily forgotten, but this one stayed with him through breakfast.

_Okay so, I might want Spock to peg me. Or maybe the disease wants Spock to peg me. Either way I wouldn’t mind it. How do I get him to peg me?_

He was musing over this while window shopping. Enjoying his last few hours of shore leave before returning, and enjoying his last few hours of his crew having the upmost confidence in him. Kirk was not entirely sure how everyone was going to respond when being told they were returning to that ill-fated sector.

It was the second revelation that dream made Kirk have. Returning. Starfleet didn’t want him to do it, Spock and Bones didn’t want him to do it. But if he could at least accomplish one thing this year, it was going to get retribution for billions. He didn’t care if it was going to kill him.

Kirk returned to the ship and gave the order. “I want to stay out of sensor range. I want to make sure that we can easily dip out if they notice us. I think we’ve been gone long enough they won’t be sending security cruisers to scan it all.”

“Captain,” Chekov stuttered. “Are you sure?”

“Does it look like you have any place to question me?”

He quickly hid his face after seeing the scowl on Kirk’s.

“Sorry, sir.”

“Lay in the course. Be diligent, both of you.” He nodded to Sulu who nodded in return.

Spock clenched his jaw, bringing his own due diligence to stay silent. This order could get them all court marshaled, it could get Kirk dishonorably discharged, or it could get them all killed. And even if they all died, they would be the poster children for Starfleet cadets to obey orders at all times. On the surface this was one of Kirk’s more stupid decisions, but deep down Spock knew how much his captain had struggled with it.

They were headed down to the lower decks. An inspection was required of everyone before the Enterprise was allowed to leave. In the turbo lift, their conversation was normal: divvy up areas for inspection and be quick.

“Jim, if you would rather—“

“No, I need to walk.” Kirk leaned against the wall. He figured alone in the lift would be the best place to bring up the decision he was struggling with. “Would you mutiny if I ordered us to go back?”

“My advice to you Captain is that you are one hundred percent certain you want to take that course of action. And that by being one hundred percent certain you have the ability to provide information that will back up that decision.”

“Okay, I’ve heard from my first officer. What about Spock?”

“I stand by your decision. With reservations.”

“Explain.”

Spock explained. His sentences were not as eloquent as he liked them to be. They were disjointed and full of worry, that of which Kirk picked up on. Spock had always shown concern for his captain as first officer, this was truly the first time that they were blending their private and working relationships together.

“Jim,” he sighed, “Captain. I love you and only wish that nothing terrible will happen to you. Please do not crusade against a white whale.”

Kirk grabbed Spock’s hand before the two parted for inspections. “I respect your advice Mister Starbuck. I’ll try not to lose my leg or my sanity.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spiders wrapping everything in webs? Watch the Shatner flick "Kingdom of the Spiders." It's terrible.  
> Giant rabbits attacking the town? Watch the DeForrest Kelly flick "Night of the Lepus." Equally terrible. 
> 
> Thankfully I have not had hallucinations. But covid has given me some bizarre as hell dreams. The neurological symptoms of this are fucking terrifying. Please researchers, stop telling me I might have dementia. I'm not even 30.


	10. One of Them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm always tired. When I'm not tired, I'm sleeping. I might be taking on a monumental task that's too much for me, but at least Spock is there. I don't entirely know if I'll succeed. I surely might fail, but if I do at least I lived up to my morals. To hell with Starfleet. This is personal."

“We’re teetering right on the edge, Captain,” Chekov reported. “No signs that they know we’re close to them.”

“Perfect. I want long rage sensors to look for Osum. For all we know it could be another casualty in this mess.” Kirk took a shuddering breath, something that always put the bridge crew on edge (get over it guys). He turned on a ship wide com. “Everyone, we’re now on complete observation mode only. As per earlier bulletins, communications will be limited to the ship only. While we’re not going to focus solely on research like previous, I want us to be at the ready. You all have been remarkable these past few months. Let’s keep up the work and do what we do best. Kirk, out.”

“Blow up one planet and make another disappear. It’s amazing how Starfleet still wants us to preserve a real first contact even though the one we had nearly killed you, sir.”

Sulu continued to scan for anything out of the ordinary as far as military cruisers went. His opinion on the situation fully aligned with Kirk’s. For all they knew he had the virus lying dormant in his body. Did he have to fear the rest of his life? At least with returning there was some hope to find a cure.

“Don’t talk to me about Starfleet right now,” Kirk grabbed a padd, heading off the bridge. “I’m on extremely thin ice with them and I don’t want to be reminded.”

“Where are you headed, sir?”

“Stellar Cartography. Send all messages there. I’ll be there for a while.”

Kirk’s only refuge as of late had been the turbo lifts. He’d let himself collapse to the ground and completely give in to all of his emotions. Everything wore on him, depleting his energy before he could really make any progress for the day. Some days, like this one, he’d stop the turbo lift and cry. His insides felt like they were on fire. The burning coursing through his lungs and up his throat into his sinuses annoyed the fucking hell out of him. Today the burning overwhelmed him to the point tears.

“I can’t handle this. I can’t. I can’t fucking keep up with this for much longer.” He seethed through clenched teeth. “Someone fucking kill me already.”

He had to start the lift again, otherwise if someone checked in at stellar cartography and he wasn’t there, they would worry. Alas, Kirk could have stayed there all day if given the chance. He gained his composure once more before the opening doors of the lift revealed that he absolutely did not cry in solitude and that he was absolutely not in the slightest at one of the weakest points in his life.

Kirk knew he could expect Spock in stellar cartography at some point, it’s selfishly why he decided to spend most of his shift there rather than on the bridge. He could use some alone time with his first officer, working of course, maybe other things if the Vulcan initiated it.

Really Kirk needed a change in environment. Stellar cartography was one of the most beautifully designed rooms on the whole ship. A field of stars that updated in real time and that could be modified to his heart’s content. UV, false color, infrared, or radio waves. All of it he could see on a whim. Lately, it inspired Kirk to keep moving.

He walked into the massive room where he was happy to see Spock standing in the middle of it all, the transparent floor made it look like he was floating in the blackness.

‘’I’d like to be surprised you’re here,” Kirk approached, “but I knew I’d find you here and I couldn’t be happier that I did.”

Spock ripped his eyes away from his padd when he heard Kirk. The slight unevenness in his voice concerned him. “Eyes slightly swollen, uneven voice, he is quite pale today,” he mentally noted. “How do I make him feel better?”

“I am quite pleased you’re here as well,” Spock responded. He decided against speaking up about Kirk’s fading physical evidence of an emotional breakdown. “I’ve been scanning as per your orders. Still nothing. There are some encouraging strings of data that shows Osum still exists.”

“Fantastic. I feel as though if we approach Osum, that’ll be the key to the rest of the sector. Miordi doesn’t care about them, the ambassador basically called them useless. I have an inkling that Osum is not a fan of their solar neighbors.”

Kirk integrated his padd with the cartography system. He lied down, a much needed rest, and looked for more evidence. It wasn’t nearly as detailed as what Spock was utilizing, but for Kirk it was just another way to have eyes on a volatile situation.

“You know, if this sector wasn’t a clusterfuck of shit, I think we all would have had an incredible time here. I still think about that nebula we saw when I first kissed you.”

It was so matter-of-factly stated that it produced a small blush from Spock. He was in the midst of sitting down next to Kirk, the phrase was so unexpected he just plopped to the floor.

“And Spock, the thing is I barely remember anything from that week. I remember that though. I definitely remember that.”

“It is a fond memory, correct.” He cleared his throat, trying not to stare too long at Kirk. He couldn’t properly function when his captain stared at him with such sleepy eyes. “It’s also correct that this sector of space would have been a marvel for Starfleet and the Federation.”

Spock zoomed in on a cluster of stars. Brilliant lively colors of newly formed gaseous orbs filled the room. The two of them were in awe of the forms that were surrounding them.

It was simply being in the same room with Spock that made Kirk feel slightly better. He didn’t have to contend with anyone’s emotions but his own. It was a pathetic attempt at domesticity by Kirk: working in the presence of someone he loved without needing to show affection physically. Of course Kirk was still trying to get Spock into his bed, and not for a cuddle session either. He just didn’t know how to approach it. Surely Spock would counter any attempt whileworrying for Kirk’s health. Kirk had to admit it to himself, he probably wouldn’t be able to have sex in any capacity with the way he was.

Yet that dream still nagged him.

“Captain, I think I may have found something.”

“Yeah? Is it viewable?”

Spock focused on a small insignificant-looking frame. “The readings from this area are far different than its surroundings. Totally black, yet there seems to be a physical mass.”

“A black hole?”

The boatswain chime interrupted their quiet pondering. “Bridge to Kirk. You seeing this,” Chekov asked, there was slight excitement in his voice.

“The black hole-like thing?”

“Ah so that’s what it’s trying to be!”

“Mr. Chekov, I am sending you an algorithm.” Spock typed on his padd. “I want you to run it for me and display all results to cartography. It will confirm or deny the existence of a black hole, which I am assuming it’s not.”

“Aye sir.”

Kirk finally sat up to the dismay of his lungs. “And what are you assuming this is, Spock?”

Spock waited for the data to show. It was all mindless calculus to Kirk that he didn’t have any real reason to know. He probably got about two lines of it and then it started to become incomprehensible.

“A cloak. Masquerading as a black hole.”

“Which could mean that it’s Osum.” Kirk cupped Spock’s cheek. “I fucking love your brilliant mind.”

* * *

The Enterprise was still hidden from the rest of the sector, or if they were discovered their presence was being ignored. Uhura had been working on a signal that the ship could send. A discoverable signal that would enlighten Osum to a friend ready to help.

Coming up with a signal that was both obscured and discoverable was a challenge Uhura and her team were willing to take on. She had stacks of information at her post relating to communications between planets in the sector and she was looking into certain radio waves. How is information processed in this area of space?

Uhura pulled up a map on the view screen. She was plotting areas of interest.

“Honestly, I think we could send a standard hail. But get the signal to piggyback off all these asteroids and other space debris.”

“Thus keeping our location a secret,” Kirk concluded. “Huh, simple enough.”

“I can make our hail look less artificial. There’s plenty of radio waves that flow through this sector. We just have to make ours look like them and we’ll be set.”

Uhura inched closer to Kirk. “I’ve also got a question to ask you.”

Her less than formal intonation grasped at Kirk’s curiosity. She rarely asked personal things on the bridge, in fact she rarely took any interest in anybody while on the bridge.

“Okay? What?”

“What’s with you and Spock?”

The two of them glanced over at Spock’s post. He was too busy reading whatever it was to be bothered with Uhura whispering questions. Kirk however turned around, trying to make the movement seem like it was intentional for any other reason than to hide his expressions from his first officer.

“I don’t get what you’re getting at, Nyota,” he lied.

“You two look like you’re embarrassed to look at each other. What? Did he walk in on you or something?” She continued looking towards Spock, completely missing Kirk’s eyes widening in fear.

“Is that the new rumor floating around?”

“No. An observation. A first-hand observation. You two don’t normally have issues, so that’s why I’m asking.”

“This is an issue?”

Uhura nodded. “When Spock is concerned, this is an issue.”

Spock looked up from his reading. He lifted a brow and tilted his head, confused as to why Uhura was talking to Kirk in such a manner. She didn’t take her eyes off the Vulcan.

“Nothing is going on between us. I dunno, maybe he hates knowing I’m sick.”

“We ALL hate knowing you’re sick. But we don’t go avoiding eye contact with you.”

“Nyota?”

“Yeah?”

A wild mischievous grin spread across his face. Before he stepped into his ready room he turned around. “Usually the most obvious answer is the right one.”

She waited for Kirk to leave before she approached Spock.

“Okay spill. When did this start?”

“When did what start?” Spock didn’t give her anything, no movement, not even a twitch of the eye. He merely stared at the data crawling across his screens.

“Ah, so now you want to be obtusely Vulcan.”

“I am not being—I am trying to focus, yet you are interrupting me with a frivolous question.”

“It’s not frivolous.” Uhura circled him and finally settled on staring at Spock from her own post. “But you flinched just now. I saw you flinch. You’re hiding something.”

Spock finally tore his eyes away from his scans. He seemed to look more stern than normal. A sign that Uhura was definitely getting to him. She was one of the few that Spock let into his inner circle. A few too many evenings sharing a late cup of tea lead Uhura to understand more of Spock’s emotional responses however slight they were. Most of the time she’d let them slide, protecting Spock’s veil of complete emotionlessness. But on the rare occasion she liked to push him. 

“I could lock you out of bridge access. It’s not a hard code to crack.”

Uhura’s addition elicited laughter from the helm. Sulu and Chekov were of course eavesdropping.

“Do any of you work when I’m not here,” Spock questioned. He gazed at the three of them.

“We work better when you’re not here,” Uhura jested. She chuckled, wishing Doctor McCoy were here to witness this.

“A joke, Nyota?” Spock rolled his eyes. “The real joke is your current presence on this bridge.”

Sulu and Chekov exchanged glances.

“Wow,” Sulu gasped.

“That was brutal,” Chekov mumbled.

“Hmmm, perhaps that was indeed too much of an unrefined joke,” Spock steepled his hands. “My apologies.”

“Not gonna lie, it was a good retort,” Uhura started to check her own screens. “But I’m not gonna let you get away with hiding something.”

“Face it, Nyota. He’s gonna go to the grave with at least four hundred and twenty-seven secrets,” Sulu said.

“If you must know Mr. Sulu, I have only 6 secrets of that sort.” Spock sighed. Some days it was really impossible with all these humans. Other days were tolerable. And then there were the few days like this when his interactions with the human race reminded him why he preferred Starfleet over the Vulcan Science Academy.

They allowed him to explore his humanity.

* * *

Osum responded to their message only 13 hours after Spock and Uhura determined that it reached the planet. It was a friendly response, a much needed morale boost.

The two entities agreed on a rendezvous point. The Enterprise would ultimately stay in position while Kirk took a shuttle. Spock refused to let him travel alone or with anyone else.

“I would have been fine you know,” Kirk monitored their position, trying very hard not to focus on the fact that he really loved seeing Spock out of uniform.

“I will not go over my reasons again,” Spock argued.

“And this is a huge conflict of interest,” Kirk sighed. He flipped a few switches knowing that they’d be in this position for another couple of hours while they waited for the Osums to approach. “I know your ulterior motives.”

“My ulterior motives? I am here to guarantee your safety.”

“You’re here to guarantee my safety because you’re romantically involved with me.” Kirk got out of his seat and kneeled next to Spock, pulling him into a kiss. “Just promise me that if the only option is to leave me on a miserable rock to die to save the entire galaxy you’ll leave me on that rock to die. No matter what your feelings are for me.”

Spock blinked. He briefly imagined it. “I…will regretfully take the most logical course of action.”

Kirk stared expectantly.

“…if that means you have to die.”

“Good. I’m glad we have that understanding.” He kissed Spock once more. “And since we have that understanding I just want to tell you that I am actually glad you’re here with me.”

“Despite all of your objections.”

“Despite all of my objections,” he grinned. “In the meantime, we’ve got a couple of hours.”

“We do.”

“And I was thinking…” Kirk grabbed Spock’s hand.

“Jim,” Spock sighed, thinking Kirk was alluding to sexual discourse.

“I wanna see if I can still beat you in chess.” He pulled Spock away from the console.

Kirk was still able to beat Spock. However the game itself brought the human to a standstill. Kirk never had a game of chess where it mentally and physically exhausted him. The game itself, while still wonderfully challenging, felt just a bit too difficult.

“Only 40 minutes? It feels like we were playing for eight hours.” He leered at Spock. “You didn’t go easy on me did you?”

“I might have, slightly. However,” Spock crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “I’m a bit distracted.”

“Distracted? You’re distracted and you take it easy on me, are you sure you’re not finally coming down with this wretched disease?”

“The Osum race looks nothing like me, it will be quite a task to conceal.”

Kirk traced the tips of Spock’s ears with his thumbs. The sensation tickled Spock to his core. There were few physical touches that Spock unashamedly enjoyed and this was one of them.

“See, this is why it was pointless of you to go with me. You’re a hinderance.”

“By the way you’re stroking my ears, I can confirm that I am not a hinderance.” He closed in for a small kiss on Kirk’s forehead. “I would have beaten you on the fifth move, yet I felt the need to draw out the game. I suggest you log this for Doctor McCoy.”

“Me stroking your ears, or the mental exhaustion?”

Spock tilted his head. The heat rose to his cheeks. He merely watched the human before him realize how much of an effect he was causing. He let his eyes close, forgetting about Kirk’s bad joke.

He pressed his lips against Spock’s. A smile against his own. Kirk was thrown into a never ending loop of happiness. Happy because he was alone with someone he cared for and with someone whom cared for him. He was elated knowing Spock could let his shields down in front of him; happy that Spock trusted him. It started all over again when he realized he was kissing a Vulcan who was smiling.

* * *

They were escorted to the small planet. Upon arrival, the two met with Osum’s top government. The planet’s figurehead, Trugo, a spindly man of 4 foot five, commanded more power than he was perceived. He lead Spock and Kirk through a tour or their medical facilities. When Trugo introduced the two visitors to staff, he was praised.

“You see, I took a very big risk hiding our planet from the rest of the solar system. We are living on a fine line of destruction, either by this disease or by the very real risk our planet will be shot out of the system and go rogue.

“I can’t let our home crumble into nothingness. I will not let my friends and family and millions of innocents die needlessly because a few people on other planets couldn’t handle outsiders realizing how much they screwed up.”

The small man opened a door to a private room where he sat at a desk. The desk was littered with documents; graphs, estimates, projections, and case studies.

“You’ve expressed your wishes to get involved.” He invited the two to sit down. “And you said your reasons could only be discussed in person. Explain.”

Kirk at one point would have refused to sit, commanding the room with his presence. Today he felt too tired to stand a minute more, but he still tried to wield the power in the room, leaning forward in his seat, hands curled into fists.

“The lovely governments of Miordi and Liordi effectively banned us from this sector. Our presence here could get us killed, and could worsen your planet’s situation. I’ll admit this is a bit personal,” Kirk tightened his fists. “I’ve suffered from this virus long enough. These victims are becoming political pawns. It’s not okay.”

“We need your help getting to Ifcusum.” Spock interjected. Now was not the time for emotional outbursts, but clear logical and succinct requests for help. “The caseloads over there seem to hint at the cause of illness.”

Trugo nodded. He handed Spock a document. An abstract detailing a study that was inching closer to the reason why so many people had the illness lay dormant in their systems.

“Tell me, Kirk. How long have you been afflicted?”

“I stopped counting. It got too depressing.”

“Not the first time I heard someone like you say that. For some reason, people with certain genetics are susceptible to an airborne element. It is mostly found on Ifcusum, resulting in many cases like yours, captain.”

Kirk frowned, realizing this was just a big balance of power play. Miordi wanted control. They didn’t like the intrusion of the Enterprise. They were already planning to destroy everyone that went against Miordi. This was all a hunch, but Kirk’s suspicions were fairly reliable places to begin investigations.

“Do you think Miordi knows the same details as you do, Mr. Trugo?”

The wicked smile that Trugo flashed Kirk alarmed the two officers. “This virus is letting them have all the power they ever wanted.”

* * *

Trugo secured Spock and Kirk’s transport to Ifcusum. He had his medical team disguise the two. They were geologists, trying to understand the effect of the planet’s weather on infrastructure.

Kirk was given darker eyes, practically black, as well as darker hair. Most of his face was going to be covered by a respirator anyway so the makeover wasn’t too intensive.

As for Spock, Kirk has a few reservations.

“You look far better with pointed ears. And rounded eyebrows don’t suit you.”

“Good to know you appreciate how my species looks, captain.” He responded. Of course far hidden deep within, Spock appreciated Kirk’s appraisal.

Stowed away on a freighter with three other passengers, Kirk and Spock spent their time devising the second leg of their plan. It wasn’t as easy as walking into a government building and declaring who they were. Ifcusum, was steadily heading into a surveillance state.The two had to tread carefully.

“Olgorum had to know something.” Kirk curled up and clutched his chest.

“Captain,” Spock held onto Kirk’s shoulder.

“It’s fine,” his breath shuddered. “It’s so damn cold. It hurts my lungs.”

“Only going to get colder, friend.”

Kirk looked up from his seat on the floor. A woman with a mane of dark curls and green eyes stared down at them.

“How so?”

“Ifcusum is in its winter period. Snow, sleet, freezing rain every day for weeks. When the clouds clear and the sun shines the air gets so cold diamonds start to glimmer in the air. This freighter is just an introduction.” She studied Kirk for a bit. “You’re one of them, aren’t you?”

“One of who?”

“We call them the long haulers. They get sick and never get better. And those that do—“

“Aren’t the same, I know.” Kirk sighed. He felt more defeated every time he heard it. It was making him wonder if he wanted to recover.

“They have the same look. All of them. I could tell.” She kneeled down and held out her hand. “Name is Isha. I suggest you keep your chest warm. Keep your face covered at all times. If this is hurting you, the planet is going to hurt more.”

Isha handed Kirk a small pillow-like object. “Like hand warmers, but for the chest. Long hauler gave me one because I helped them out, but compared to you, it’s a sin to keep this for myself. You need it.”

Kirk accepted the gift. He thanked Isha, considering she might just be the friend he and Spock needed.

“Isha, what do you do? My friend, Tschai and I, we’re geologists.”

She smiled. “I think it’s easiest for me to say that I’m a social worker.”

The woman didn’t say another word, and returned to her corner of the freighter.

Spock waited a few moments for the enduring silence and the low hum of the freighter’s engines to engulf the cargo bay once more. He tilted his head.

“Tschai?”

“See, this is why everyone refers to you as Spock.”

Kirk waited for a sardonic response. But all he heard was a few exhalations.

“You’re laughing.”

Spock stayed silent.

“You’re actually laughing. You’re stone-faced and silent, but you’re laughing under your breath.”

“Vulcans don’t laugh, Jim.”

“But they like being kissed. And they like having their head held. They like having their human lover pull them into a snuggle.”

“I am merely in character. An emotional being. An Osum geologist.” Spock pulled Kirk ever closer so he could wrap his arm around his waist. “An Osum geologist who is working on a project with his significant other.”

“Hopefully this project gets to the root cause of this whole ordeal.”

“I am hopeful something positive will come of it.”

Kirk curled up closer to Spock, obscuring his face from the cold. The restricted oxygen flow was making him tired and the hum of the engines was lulling him to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 273 as of publishing this chapter. Constant annoyances. Constant pain. Constant tiredness.
> 
> Sometimes reading and drawing and writing get physically exhausting. Telling, how I could only get through 3/4 of "Ulysses" before declaring it too difficult to read right now (Actually it's insufferable but that's a whole other essay). 
> 
> It took 9 months, but I was FINALLY able to see my primary care doctor. He believes me. He believes every thing I told him. We're basically stuck right now because there isn't enough science. But at least he validated me. Sometimes it felt like it was all in my head.
> 
> I hope one day there's enough to treat the disease and not the symptoms. I hope. Right now I'm stuck once more. I can't get a PFT because the hospital doesn't have the capability. I get it. I want them to stay safe and not waste PPE or time on me, but it's still annoying. Still feeling like I'm being forgotten.


	11. Tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bones always told me that I don't rest enough. And I tell him I sleep plenty. Apparently, there's a difference between sleeping and resting. I didn't get what he meant by that when he first yelled at me about it. Now Spock is yelling at me. Well, not yelling, Vulcans don't yell. But I think I get it now. 
> 
> I don't want to rest, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And a happy 300 days since my first recorded symptoms.

“He’s the long-hauler?”

Spock nodded. He looked back at his companion who was hunched over a table. The two were in a hotel lobby. Trugo made arrangements for their lodging. It was the least he could do.

The attendant nodded and went back behind his desk. Spock narrowed his eyes as he was trying to make out what he was saying to his coworker. Pointing, a nod here and there. The attendant came back to Spock.

“We will make arrangements to the best of our ability. In the meantime, there is a cafe next door. Public dining is very limited, but show them your papers. I’m certain they’ll accommodate you, solely on his account.”

Kirk barely raised his head off the table. “So?”

“They are working on a room. Apparently, being as you are affords you extra care.”

He sighed in response. Spock mindlessly started rubbing Kirk’s back. He knew there wasn’t anything he could do that would ease the pain. Comforting Kirk was about it.

“There’s a door that leads from the lobby to a cafe. The attendant suggested it. We can have lunch there.” Spock leaned forward on the table, trying to glimpse at Kirk’s face. “I do not know how to precisely ask. Please forgive me for the phrasing. Are you recovered enough to head over there?”

Kirk managed a smile. “I appreciate that.”

He slowly sat up, hugging himself. For some reason (he stopped trying to understand), he felt better pressing himself as tightly as he could. “I think it’s pointless. Your question. I might just have to forget about it, and push through.”

They held hands as they walked through the lobby and into the cafe. It was quiet, a small line outside for orders. By the reaction of the workers, the hotel staff let them know they had potential guests.

One of the workers, a pale brunette, sat them in a corner table. She brought them menus and tea.

“Tea is courtesy of the manager. He’s a long-hauler as well.” She placed the cup and saucers before her guests. “He told me it’s best to drink it plain, but if you need sugar or honey I can get those for you.”

Kirk looked at her a bit befuddled. He hadn’t said a word to these people and they could tell. And he was trying his best not to look so miserable.

“I’m sorry, but what makes you assume—?”

“That you’re a long-hauler?” She frowned, sorry for pressing her own assumptions on someone else. “At first we thought your friend was just trying to come up with an excuse to eat inside and not be in the cold. You must…you must not be able to see it where you’re from. I’ve heard stories about that too.”

She meandered over to the register, looking through various items stored in the drawers behind the till. Kirk took a sip of his tea while he waited. Whatever it was, it warmed his whole body. It took the edge off of his pained lungs.

The woman brought him a mirror.

“You all have this look. This pure dread splayed across your face. But there’s something about the eyes. The manager, Tor, has it. My grandmother has it. You have it.”

Kirk looked. At first he had to overcome the shock that he was in disguise, then he had to overcome the shock when he saw his eyes.

“I’ve never seen anyones eyes do this,” she continued. “The irises just start fading into the whites. I don’t know why people here can see it. Maybe it’s the planet’s natural radiation. Maybe it’s how our light is scattered. People get so upset about it when they see it for the first time.”

“It’s like they’re bruised,” Kirk breathed.

“Bleeding,” Spock added.

“And it’s only the long haulers. Everyone else who gets sick and recovers—“

“Yeah, I’m aware.” Kirk frowned. “Please tell your manager I’m grateful for the tea.”

She nodded, feeling terrible once again for the intrusion.

* * *

He was starting to stare. Walking down a line he’d pick them out. Everyone was right. They all looked the same. He stared, and they’d stare back. Two seconds of shock, then acceptance. Two seconds where Kirk saw someone who knew just how bad he felt, the shock that there was someone just like him, and then pure empathy and acceptance.

They were few and far between, but each face Kirk remembered. The silent commiserating was prominent whenever Kirk and Spock went out. A cup of coffee. Groceries. Light walks when the weather was “ideal.”

Of course ideal weather here was the bitter cold and maybe a light drizzle.

For two weeks, they set up their presence. They worked on making their connections with local government officials and health officers. It was easy for Kirk, his mere existence afforded him an audience with anyone that would listen. One look and it swayed anyone to do his bidding. At first he felt bad for using his condition, but when he asked to set up an appointment with one of the viral specialists at the research hospital, he figured it wasn’t all bad.

“Where did you get sick,” the virologist asked.

“Olgorum. Then we went exploring on a planet between that one and Liordi.”

“Hatschu.”

“Excuse me?”

The virologist jotted some sentences down in his notebook. “Hatschu. The dwarf planet that’s uninhabited? The one where everyone goes for camping trips? Much of the cases like yours come from there.”

“I picked up a fucking rock. If I didn’t I would have been fine.”

Kirk watched the virologist write down more of his scribbles. He continued to drink the tea that the cafe manager supplied him with.

“You know why that tea of yours seems to be helping?”

“No.”

“It’s not entirely homeopathic. It’s made from leaves and fruits found on Olgorum and Hatschu.”

“But,” Kirk looked back at his reflection. “That means this tea is extremely rare. I’ve been getting it as a gift.”

“Then that person is incredibly generous. The thing is, people like you had contact with soils that activated the virus. And when they drink this tea, they feel slightly better. Almost as if the tea itself is feeding off the virus. We don’t know for sure, but whatever is still inside you is latching onto this liquid and making you less miserable.”

“But it’s not a cure.”

He shrugged. “Treatment. Hardly a cure.”

Kirk set his cup on the desk. The bright fluorescent lights seemed to get brighter. He was now acutely aware of his surroundings. The low hum of the air vents, the slightest slight flicker of the light to his left, and the spit gulped down the virologist’s throat.

It was becoming more clear that when Kirk leaves this solar system, he will be doomed. Unless he found the same compounds from Hatschu and could synthesize them, he’d have no treatment whatsoever.

That made Miordi’s decision to blow up Olgorum all the more disturbing.

“Do you mind sharing what makes this tea so special? It’s not directly my field of work, but I have a few botanist friends working with me that would love to see this.” 

Kirk waited for the piece of paper to reach his hands. At least it was a start. 

* * *

As devastatingly painful as it was, Kirk ran. He ran through the blizzard, dodging the few people on the sidewalks. The list of plants and their profiles was tucked neatly in his pocket. It felt like he was carrying contraband with information this vital.

“Mai,” he called as he got into the cafe. “Where’s Tor?”

Mai, the worker who first sat him and Spock down at the corner table, pointed towards the back. “Do you need—“

She scrambled around the counter as fast as she could.

Kirk’s vision was darkening. He’d experience this whenever he pushed too hard, whether it be climbing too many stairs or walking too fast. He’d lose all saturation of the world, and everything would grey and blacken. Despite the fire ripping through his torso and up through his nose, it felt great to run again. He hadn’t felt so alive in months.

Mai pushed him down onto a chair. She grabbed him a cup of coffee and ran to the back room. Tor was with her when she returned.

Tor was a tall, well built man. He kept his head shaved, and before constantly wearing a mask, his beard was neatly trimmed. Now, his once perfectly groomed beard was gone, his muscle mass dwindled, and the glimmer in his eyes dimmed. Like all the long haulers Kirk encountered on this planet, he was done. Tor was just done with life. But for some reason he kept pressing on.

“Where do you get your tea,” Kirk gasped. “The tea you give me?”

“It’s supplied to me through the government.” Tor sat down, clasping his hands. “I have a social worker and she’s the one who gets it to me.”

“I’m so thankful for you, Tor. You shouldn’t be giving me your treatment.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Do you know just how rare that tea of yours is?”

“I know it’s in limited supply, but when I saw you how I could I refuse not to help?”

“You might be helping more people than you know.” Kirk pressed his hand to his chest where the sheet of paper sat cozied up inside his pocket. “Can you tell me how to meet your social worker? It’s really important.”

“To get tea for yourself?”

Kirk nodded. As much as he wanted to tell Tor and Mai what his true intentions were he didn’t trust them enough with the information.

“I don’t want you to deplete your resources. That tea is for you. I should get my own supply.”

* * *

Kirk fumbled with the key card. After the fourth try, Spock finally opened the door. Initially he was curious why there were so many attempts and figured it might have been a neighboring guest at the wrong door. When Kirk looked up from his hands, Spock should have been shocked. His limited emotions made him slightly displeased.

“Jim, you are going to kill yourself.”

“What?”

He pulled Kirk to the bed. He pulled off his coat and shoes. Kirk’s energy was dwindling fast.

“Okay, I might have pushed it.”

“Your eyes are good indicators.”

“Hmm?”

“Jim, your eyes are bloodshot. Whether they truly are, or it’s the same effect we see from people like you, I’m certain this means you’ve depleted your energy.”

“Well, all for an important breakthrough.” Kirk yawned. He wanted to continue with his findings, but Spock pressed his lips to his mouth.

**_REST._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some days I really yearn to be visibly ill. I want someone to look at me and say "oh they have long covid." I'm starting to learn just how important it is to validate people with invisible illnesses. 
> 
> Through an unfortunate event, I learned just how much rest it takes for my symptoms to subside. I was laid up for a full week. Then after 3 days of work, the symptoms came back. 
> 
> I just want to thank the community with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. Your pro-tips are helping. You're right. I DO need to plan rest the same way I'd plan a hike out in the mountains. I'm learning. It's slow, but I'm learning. Unfortunately I can't just stop working.


	12. And So it Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Two Hundred Something. I don't know anymore. I hate the cold. I hate the snow. I hate the wind. I'm always so tired. I'm always on the verge of sleep. Spock cares too much. He's surprisingly clingy while he's sleeping. I miss his pointed ears."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry February. Just a friendly reminder to stay safe, and don't let complacency get the best of you! Keep being the best you can be, even if the best you can be is taking a four hour nap. We'll get through this. We've got to.

“I had a feeling I’d see you two again.”

Spock and Kirk were referred to the social works office in the public safety area of the city. When Kirk was handed the contact information for Tor’s social worker he was ecstatic. It had to be the same person.

“Isha,” Kirk stood holding out his hand then retracting it once more. It was quite amazing how many social behaviors he had to unlearn.

She lead them to her office where she handed Kirk a cup of tea. “Looks like you could use some. And a bunch more. Assuming this is the reason for your visit.”

“I mean, yeah. I could use a supply of this myself. One of your clients has been gifting his to me.” Kirk frowned at his reflection in the cup.

“On another note, we also want more information about how you source the item,” Spock discretely placed a hand on Kirk’s knee.

“The supply chain is a bit of a confidential matter,” Isha crossed her arms. “I can help, but to an extent.”

Spock handed her the list of ingredients that Kirk received from the virologist. “This is the information we have. What we want is a way to collect it ourselves.”

“Thought you guys were geologists?”

“With a few botanists on our team,” Spock continued squeezing Kirk’s knee. “If we could get specimen, we can grow it ourselves.”

“You don’t think Ifcusum hasn’t tried? We’ve gone through multiple trials and nothing has yielded anything. Any and all specimen are unable to grow in a greenhouse. They’re limited to Hatschu.”

Kirk gripped his mug harder. He stared at his white knuckles, his shaking hands. This was his and so many others’ last hope. He wasn’t about to give up. “I refuse to accept that as an answer.”

“Excuse me,” Isha protested.

“I refuse. I refuse to let people like me turn into political pawns. I refuse to believe that these plants can only be grown on Hatschu. Where I’m from there were a lot of species like that too but we found a way to grow them.”

Isha leaned on her desk. She sighed loudly, knowing just how many people before Spock and Kirk asked about the same thing. Yet these two were the only ones with a verified list of plants. She grappled with the information she knew or what she thought she knew. Of course there were discrepancies between what she learned and what those above her learned. Kirk was right, politics was becoming more at play in this crisis. And she hated it.

“Everything is shipped to us. It’s under tight security. All I know that it’s shipped from the planet. I don’t know if it makes another stop. I don’t know if it’s processed here.”

“Is there any way we can get there,” Spock asked.

“Is that a joke? The whole place is on fucking lockdown. Everything in and out is permitted by Miordi.”

She stared at the two. Kirk staring aimlessly into his tea. Spock staring straight back at her. Isha was overwhelmed with the intensity of his held gaze.

“Okay, I can tell you what port the shipments go through, but I can’t say anything else. The rest is up to you. Please, don’t tell anyone where you learned about this.”

* * *

He loved the paper crumpling ripples of the birch trees. The brisk air that swirled the white and pink petals around. The dew that dampened the blanket just enough. The sweet smell of nectar.

The allure of sleep was still overwhelming, but everything about this was entirely wrong. He had to wake up and investigate.

Blue sky. Puffs of clouds here and there.

“Spock?”

He sat up. The familiar fields where he’d ride around aimlessly. There’s no way he was back in Iowa.

“Spock,” he called out again.

And suddenly Spock appeared. Lying down beside him. It must be a dream.

Jim ran his fingers through the black hair. The silky texture easing his mind back into rest. He lied back down, gazing at Spock trying to memorize every little thing about his face.

“I love you so much,” he breathed. No hitches, no shudders. Finally a normal breath. “We’re in your mind, aren’t we?”

It was intended to be rhetorical, but Spock grunted. “Yes. And yours as well.”

“Explains Iowa.”

Jim traced Spock’s face. There was the slightest upturn on the Vulcan’s lips. He was curious why they were here, but the perfection lying beside him battled for his attention.

“You pushed yourself too hard, Jim. I nearly dragged you all the way back to our hotel room.”

“Hm, I guess I do remember falling asleep in that office. It just took over.”

“It started to intrude on me as well.” Spock placed his hand on the back of Jim’s neck. He pressed his lips on the human’s. “This virus is littered through out your brain. And I can’t seem to find a way to get rid of it.”

Trickles of tears down the cheeks. Down both their cheeks.

“This meld is tiring you out?”

Jim rolled onto Spock, straddling him. He held Spock’s eyes open, searching for any clues into the Vulcan’s soul. Any inkling of hope.

“It is exhausting.”

“Then stop!”

“May I be truthful with you?”

Jim scrunched up his face. He heard the falter in the man’s voice. “What?”

“I am afraid of losing this connection.”

“If it ever got so bad, you can’t meld with me anymore?”

Spock nodded.

“I won’t let that happen. This is a treasure. A gift. I won’t let this disease destroy our only way for normalcy.” He held Spock’s head, brushing his brows with his thumbs. He leaned in closer, hovering just an inch above Spock’s face.

“I’ve yet to decipher a way for you to do that.” He reached for Jim’s hand.

“What? More reading? More chess? What’s that weird stick game you play?” Jim’s bottom lip trembled. “You’re making it sound like I’m—Bones warned me about this too…“

Spock laced his fingers with Jim’s. He sensed the overwhelming panic rising within. Where everyone thought of James T. Kirk as Starfleet’s flashy golden boy; the face of the Federation, Spock saw the inner workings of a deeply traumatized and brilliantly astute mind. He wasn’t just a facade. The captain could very well run the entire bridge himself if he really wanted to.

And Jim never wanted people to think of him as a puppet. He worked tirelessly, always worrying about his image. The was part of the trauma Spock saw. How worried he was about how his crew saw him. Does the crew truly see him as a brilliant mind in command, or was he just just another dashing young man in the captain’s chair while Spock did everything?

“Spock. This is all I have left.”

“We’ll see what we find on Hatschu.”

The breeze picked up once more. Jim rolled off Spock, pulling his knees to his chest. He thought about all the small possibilities of exposure. The dangers of stepping onto that planet.

“I don’t want you to go with me.”

“It would be better—“

“I know it would be better! We’re better off as a team! I get that. What I don’t want is you getting this. For all we know that vaccine wore off. I’m not even sure if I’m immune to it anymore.”

Spock sat up. He watched as Jim grabbed a fistful of grass and pulled the blades out of the ground. He threw them into the wind.

“I know you just want to make sure I’m okay,” Jim continued. “I feel that. I can feel every little thought you’ve had about me for the past few years. I’ll be okay, Spock. I was okay before I met you. I’ll be okay now.”

“Are you?”

He stared. Spock blinked once before turning away.

“Captain, asking for help or receiving it is not a weakness.”

A few birds chirping in the distance.

“I have no idea what I’d do without you.”

* * *

Isha stepped onto the loading dock. She handed Spock a couple of passes.

“These will let you board this ship as researchers. I’m sure if you told any of the crew you’re geologists it wouldn’t make a difference. Once you get there however, I’m pretty uncertain what it’ll be like. You’ll be with a group of scientists. They run expeditions in regular intervals. What they actually research, I don’t really know.”

Spock spent the past four days heading to the loading docks early in the morning. He found a nook between shipping crates and observed. Large wooden crates were hauled off into unmarked hovercraft. There wasn’t a chance any of these crates contained living specimen.

He arranged a meeting with Isha without Kirk’s knowledge. A late night trip to the bay left unexplained. Spock described their real mission. And once he mentioned revenge on Kirk’s behalf, Isha grinned. She was pleased with the idea of overthrowing a tyrannical government.

“We’ve been in bigger predicaments,” Spock assured her.

She nodded over to Kirk who was leaning against a crate. “And how is he?”

“Exhausted. This is not an ideal climate.”

“Thankfully the ship’s climate will match with Hatschu’s. He should find some relief.” She pulled out another document from her pocket. “I also have one other thing for you to gather. I was snooping around. There were some destroyed documents, some encrypted. This one thing kept popping up. It’s a cat that’s native to Olgorum and Hatschu. Maybe go search for it?”

“You have a theory?” Spock took the document, a photo of the animal. It was the same species that they encountered so many months ago.

“I bet you Miordi would have destroyed Hatschu too. I think they have a cure.”

“And they’re willingly withholding it.”

Isha watched as the two boarded the ship. She noted the brush of their fingers. The simple gesture triggered a bunch of cascading thoughts: Power, love, deception, lies, truth, balance, kindness, people.

She rushed to her office, spending hours making calls to her colleagues.

* * *

Sunshine and warm air elated him. It calmed the pain in his body. Even if it was the same planet that ultimately put him close to death, he was excited to see something other than a grey sky or an equally grey bulkhead.

“You think they knew we stopped by this place?” Kirk mused as he threw on his backpack.

“Likely.” Spock followed behind, he pulled out his tricorder once more. Nothing different from the very first readings he took on this planet. “Then again, Olgorum saw us more as visitors. Not so much as explorers.”

Hatschu had four main landing areas. In order to preserve its isolation, travelers who intended their visit for leisure were dropped off at particular sites and then had to commute their own way to their destination. The particular site Kirk and Spock were dropped off at was reserved for naturalists. Isha sought out this particular voyage because the two Starfleet officers would have fit in well with any kind of scientific expedition.

They landed in the same forested ecosystem as previous. The trees climbed high above them. Closer to the mountains this time, the vegetation on the ground was perpetually wet with mist and dew.

“I really don’t think this system wants visitors or explorers. No one ever listened to us. Maybe they did, but it just all seemed—“

“Superficial?” Spock examined some lichen. “Explains why you showed such frustration towards everyone.”

“You know how much I loathe it when people don’t take me seriously.”

Kirk knelt down. He grinned stupidly realizing the burning in his lungs disappeared. “And I hope you listened to me when I told you not to touch anything.”

His disposition changed immediately from friendly banter, back to an officer in command. He didn’t particularly like having to use his “captain’s voice” especially towards Spock, but the situation called for it. His first officer was reaching out to the plant he was scanning.

It was a small victory, Spock thought. It had been weeks since Kirk demonstrated any kind of authority. There was a comfort to his captain being a captain once more. A bit of normalcy. A bit of whatever this strange feeling was that allured him to Kirk in the first place.

“My apologies, captain. A habit I will refrain from proceeding with.” Spock checked the tricorder and the field notes. “I do believe we have our first specimen.”

The two walked around for hours repeating the same tasks. Spock would scan particular plants that were similar in description. Kirk would pack them up. They’d linger and catch up with the rest of the group. They tried to keep to themselves, only answering basic questions from the lead scientists. As was the entirety of the group: they all had their own goals and their own research to work on.

It was during sunset that the expedition lead, Dres, finally approached Kirk.

“What’s it like being able to touch everything on this planet and not worry?”

Kirk was surprised by the approach. He was focused entirely on his notes he and Spock made during the day.

“You get to touch the plants, the soils, the rocks. I like your companion have to stand idly by. I’m just curious is all.”

“I’d rather be like you.”

Dres grinned, rather ashamed. “Everyone but myself and your friend are affected. One by one, I watched them drop. All because of this fucking planet. All because we were doing our jobs. And for some reason I hadn’t gotten it.”

“Survivor’s guilt?”

“I won’t rest until I can help my friends.” He rolled up his sleeve revealing a scar running up his forearm. It wasn’t clean. Discolored and ragged. It was a reminder of infection, of severe nerve damage, and blood clots. “Now this? This is why I think I escaped from your fate.”

On a dismal trip to Hatschu one year ago, Dres and his team were exploring the caverns at the base of the planet’s largest mountain range. Hatschu was deep in drought, and it was their job to document the drought’s effects. They were tracked down by a “Kogu.” The cat and mouse game between animal and the researchers ultimately triggered a rock slide. Dres ended up getting attacked, bitten on the arm.

“We inhaled all that dirt, all of whatever the hell makes people sick. But I was the one who got attacked and didn’t succumb.”

“You’re searching for it, aren’t you? That cat.” Kirk frowned. “Unbeknownst to you Dres, I’m pretty pissed off now.”

He averted his eyes. “Well shit, I didn’t mean to—“

“No you didn’t mean to.” Kirk laughed. It was hearty, full of lingering depression and disbelief. “My first trip here my landing party was being stalked by one. If I didn’t pick up that rock…”

“You’d been either severely maimed or killed?” Dres joined in the disheartening laughter. “Fucking hell. That’s quite the either or.”

“Slain because of a cat, or slain because of a disease.” Kirk grumbled. “Basically I was being offered shit or shit without knowing it was shit.”

Dres grabbed another log and placed it onto the fire. He warmed his hands. “We’ve spent the past 3 months looking for this fucking cat. Trudging through shit to play a shit game of hide and seek. We’ve been lying to the Miordi government about this. All they think we’re doing is taking rock and soil samples.”

Kirk stared up at the sky. The purple glow of the atmosphere elevated the universe’s beauty. Trillions of stars shining bright. As much as he knew what was out there the human spirit spiraled through him. There was so much more to life, so much more to learn. Of those trillions of stars there were billions other people like him clinging onto something so small, despite all the hopelessness.

He smiled and took a deep shuddering breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some hope. Some research saying Long Covid has similarities to autoimmune diseases. Which thankfully have treatments. I think what keeps terrifying me though is the fact that my brain is probably forever structurally changed. When I hear "dementia" I get scared. Some days I don't mind the whole not breathing right thing, because the fear about my body being eternally neurologically broken takes over.
> 
> This time last year we had a lot of travelers come through at my job. Lots of them from Seattle complaining about things being shut down. We still had a lot of international visitors, yes a lot of them from the affected areas. I watched my friend who lives in Beijing go through an incredible lifestyle change due to China's lockdown. Lockdown here started March 17.
> 
> I was witnessing the homeless population last january/february battling respiratory infections that the ERs had no idea how to get rid of. It had to have been covid. I don't doubt this. Meanwhile I was getting frustrated with lingering concussion issues from december and a leg injury. Always missing my personal best on the deadlift! Funny how in five weeks I'll lose the ability to stand, let alone walk! Hindsight is insane right now...
> 
> At least here in this story there is a definite cure.


	13. Vaccinium

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to think my crew, my friends, my family...I'd like to think they're all at work like it used to be. Hikaru and Pavel are at the helm sharing pictures of whatever the hell is popular online, Bones tinkering with his bartending side gig, Scotty swooning over the warp nacelles, Nyota practicing her singing in the observation room that she thinks is empty...
> 
> But they're working their asses off. They shouldn't have to. They should have mutinied. I wouldn't have been mad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're taking a little break from Kirk being "WOE IS ME" and seeing some of the crew. But don't worry, there's still some "WOE IS ME."
> 
> Also "Admiral Paris" is pretty much the whole "choose your universe" character. I watched ST: Beyond and VOY recently so....

“You’ve given us about fourteen different excuses.” Admiral Paris snarled. “And you’re telling me you have no idea where the captain and the first officer of your ship are at?”

Scotty paced around the bridge. His hands clasped behind his back, he was trying his best to assume professionalism amid weeks of uncertainty. He really had no idea as to the location of Spock and Kirk and if he did he’d be doing the same thing: giving fourteen different excuses as to why he’s not better informed of his commanding officers’ whereabouts.

“Well, I know the captain took some personal leave. That’s only ‘cause he has me in command for the time being. I never asked about Mister Spock.”

He glanced at Uhura who merely shrugged.

“For all I know they’re on a vacation.”

“So we’re going back to excuse number 4,” Paris sighed. “Commander Scott, there’s multiple reports from your location explaining there is absolutely nothing of worth out there. You’re expecting me to accept excuse number 4? A vacation? A vacation after months already being off-duty?”

“To be fair admiral, being sick for a long time is pretty tiring.”

Scotty was getting tired of calls from the admiralty. The past month he refused to speak to anyone if it weren’t voice only. It let him quietly consult the rest of the bridge officers, asking for validation that what he was saying was the right thing. After every call, Sulu gave him a big hug and Chekov took some of his work load so the engineer could retire to watch the warp core work its magic in peace.

“I should have every single one of you court marshaled,” Paris threatened. “This is absolute appalling behavior. Every single bridge officer, every one of this ship’s senior staff is getting reprimanded for this.”

“For what,” Scotty shook his head at Sulu. The helmsman agreed, Paris hadn’t quite explained what they were doing wrong. They actually did not know where the two were.

Now as for what they were doing…

“Evading my inquiries,” Paris nearly screamed. It was frustrating. This kind of behavior was that of new cadets, not the flagship of Starfleet.

“I’m sorry admiral. We really don’t know!”

“Bullshit.”

Uhura shook her head. She whispered quietly in Scotty’s ear. “I’m going to get into so much trouble for this.”

She flipped some switches and brought up visual comms. Her specialty at work, Uhura figured it was time to start easing some tensions, and visual contact was about the only option left.

“Admiral? I promise, none of us are lying. We wouldn’t resort to insubordination. We really do not know where Captain Kirk and Commander Spock are. But I can assure you they’re completely off duty.”

Uhura forwarded the duty rosters. “They’re both not scheduled for another two weeks, and I promise. I promise! They’re….”

_Sometimes the most obvious thing is the correct answer._

“They’re just spending time together.”

Paris’ crossed their arms. “Spending time together. They go off duty without my knowledge for the past six weeks to spend time together? Excuse number 15, then?”

“It’s not an excuse!” Uhura buried her head in her hands. The two of them were going to kill her for saying this out loud, let alone to their commanding officer. “They just want to be alone. Not as officers of starfleet but as friends. As one does with whom they are dating.”

The ever dull hum of the ship’s engines roared louder in Uhura’s ears. She blushed as she spoke. It was utterly true, yet still the biggest lie she ever told a superior officer.

The admiral uncrossed their arms. They leaned on the desk they were sitting at and sighed. It was long and drawn out, full of frustration. “I’m done. I’m done with this sector. I’m done with this crew. I’m done with Kirk. I’m done with this whole blasted ship. If I don’t hear from them in 48 hours, I’m recalling The Enterprise and you’re all in for 2 weeks of non-stop debriefing. Understand?”

Before Uhura or Scotty could respond, Paris cut the transmission.

“The was one hell of a lie Nyota,” Scotty patted her back. “But I guess fraternizing is a lot better than disregarding the Prime Directive for a revenge plot.”

* * *

Kirk lied in bed while Spock was out making arrangements to deliver their contraband of plants. The sheets were soft, the blankets were fuzzy. He must have dosed off three times in the past hour.

The rest of their trip, as hopeful as it was, didn’t yield a Kogu sighting. Kirk felt the last dash of hope leave his body as they traveled farther away from Hatschu. When the two got back to their room, Kirk fell into bed and didn’t leave it.

He groaned when there was a knock at the door.

The service attendant trembled. “I’m sorry to bother you after your travels sir. We received a wire from Osum and was told it was urgent.”

Kirk grabbed the piece of paper from the attendant’s hands, nodded and thanked him.

“Connect on 145.8 and broadcast 29029.00 MHz and call Paris. Immediately upon retrieval.”

“Fuck,” he muttered.

Spock wasn’t going to be back for some time, so Kirk had to make the call on his own. He dug through his backpack and pulled out his communicator, connecting to the correct channel and frequency. It was still a long shot for a perfectly clear connection, but it was a last resort if something were to happen to the Enterprise.

When he lied back down in bed, he thanked Starfleet for abandoning the idea video calling should be available on communicators.

“Kirk to Paris.”

It wasn’t a perfect connection but he could clearly hear the admiral trying to control most of their anger.

“Well at least you’re not fucking dead.”

“Good morning to you too, Admiral.”

“I’m curious captain, do you not want your commission anymore? I’m more than happy to hand it off to someone else.”

He rolled his eyes, but decided not to respond with what he truly wanted to say. So he let Admiral Paris continue their train of thought.

“I’ve been trying to contact you for the past six weeks. Each time, I’m given a different answer by your chief engineer, your chief of security, your chief navigator, and quite recently your chief communications officer. Who gave me probably one of the most interesting excuses of them all.”

“And what would that be,” he mused.

“Please tell me you’re not fraternizing with your first officer.”

Kirk laughed. Hearty and full of disbelief. All the while his internal voice was screaming in terror. “In what context? He’s my best friend. I’m not allowed to have friends?”

“She implied a romantic relationship,” Paris spoke unwavering.

“Can I be even more frank with you, Admiral? Why the fuck would I be dating my first officer?”

“So it would bring up the question. Why the fuck would your crew be making up reasons as to why they don’t know where you’re at and what you’re doing?”

Paris didn’t wait for Kirk to respond.

“You’re in that fucking solar system that we expressly forbade you to return to, aren’t you?”

There were several moments in his Starfleet career he knew he was in the wrong and faced being dishonorably discharged. But this gloomy morning as he lied in bed, he realized there was more to life than a career in Starfleet. If the outcome of what he longed for was good, he could manage being ostracized throughout the Federation for the rest of his life.

“Okay. You caught me. You caught me even though I barely put up a fight to restrict you from finding out what I am doing. It’s hard to resist the call of a cure for a disease that seems so endless. Sorry if I didn’t want to risk my crew, and I’m sorry that Mister Spock is an imbecile who won’t let me do this alone.”

The pause from Paris was a sign of assurance, Kirk thought. Perhaps they were contemplating the situation. Perhaps they were muted and screaming every curse word in seven different languages.

“That Planet. Miordi. Do they know you’re in their territory?”

“I haven’t been anywhere near their space. The closest I got was the original planet where I got sick. I promise admiral I’m not trying to instigate anything other than offering a treatment and a cure to myself and everyone like me.”

Paris had to weigh whether or not it was worth letting Kirk go off on his own whims or finally reign the man in. The admiral did not like these grey areas. Choosing between non-intervention or the desperation of one person to overcome an illness while millions of others were surely feeling the same. Was this mission self-serving, or did it really benefit everyone?

“I’m going to request every little document about this incident. Your logs, your CMO’s logs, everyone who is relevant. While I’m aware of the situation, I feel like I need to live through it to truly understand.”

Kirk sighed in relief.

“But don’t think you’re entirely off the hook, captain. I’m flagging your file. You still disobeyed orders.”

* * *

_Wanna try and grow these in a greenhouse? They’re finicky, but if we could figure out huckleberries I think we can figure these out too._

The message was scrawled on a small post card. It was tucked neatly in between glass jars of soils and living specimen and seeds. Sulu pulled out the contents of the wooden crate that was transported over to them from a passing ship. When Kirk told them to expect a package, they weren’t expecting a box of plants.

“Welp. I guess I’m gonna go spend the next forty hours in the green house.”

Uhura probed her way through the crate. She pulled out a packet of paper (wow she actually missed the feel of paper), and scanned its contents.

“Save some for McCoy. Looks like they’ve been making tea as a treatment.”

“You know what this means?” Chekov turned away from the helm. “If we figure all this out, we can put an end to all of this.”

“If everyone has access to treatment,” Scotty started.

“Then no one can try using it as a means to gain control,” Chekov finished.

Sulu grabbed another packet of paper. “Spock even listed the planet’s atmosphere.” He looked around at his crewmates. “Okay guys, I’ll try my best not to fail, even though it took botanists 300 years to get huckleberries to grow in masse in a greenhouse.”

Their weeks of lazying about, or rather not working 90 hour weeks but a meager 60, was at an end. Sulu spent day and night in the greenhouse researching and simulating growth patterns on the computer. It was frustrating work, but every tweak he made to the algorithm seemed to inch him closer to a more viable recipe for success. He meticulously followed the method the huckleberry botanists used as a guide, but he also brought some of that Hikaru charm.

“I don’t get it,” Uhura lied down a wool blanket on the floor next to the hydroponics table. “What’s so important about this so-called ‘Huckleberry Debacle?’”

Sulu set out a couple of glasses and popped the cork from the wine bottle. It was of course a huckleberry wine. “There’s a very specific genus of huckleberry that only grew in one region on Earth. Somehow it survived a volcanic explosion, but if you tried growing it commercially, the plant would never bear any fruit. 100 years ago, a few scientists and a bunch of garden enthusiasts decided to finally try reigning in this undomesticated plant. It was used as medicine for millennia, and all these people wanted to cash in.

“And that’s what we’re going to do. Except we’re not going to profit. We’re simply going to disrupt the balance of power in a sector of space. So we’re going to replicate a lot of those factors found on that beautiful planet. According to the captain’s documents people camped and hiked all over the place.”

“Hence the picnic?” Uhura took a swig of her wine. “Oh my god Hikaru, why have we never grown huckleberries on the ship?”

He laughed and enjoyed his own swig of the wine. So sweet and supple. “Because even though those botanists made mass farming and domestication of the plant possible, they’re still a bitch to grow.”

Uhura could merely laugh. “Okay okay. We’ll stick to blueberries I guess.”

* * *

“When the fuck did I become Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman,” McCoy grumbled.He was slowly making progress through all of Spock’s hand written notes. “I swear the Vulcan wrote in this nonsense script to toy with me.”

M’Benga looked over his own copies. “You can’t read cursive?”

“I can’t read HIS cursive.”

“Also, if you’re Dr. Quinn does that make me your Byron Sully?”

“Geoff,” McCoy tapped on the desk they were both sharing, “We need to stop watching 20th century era television shows during lunch.”

“Hell no, Len. We’ve just started Emergency and I am all for watching you curl up in disgust at all the old technology.”

“It is BARBARIC.” McCoy declared.

Between spats of banter and viewings of old Earth television, McCoy and M’Benga pulled together all their knowledge about homeopathic remedies over the course of the week. At least the ones that weren’t bent on making money or taking advantage of people. From the looks of Spock’s reports, the tea was truly medicinal.

M’Benga was pleased with their first tests of their samples, all of the compounds that were present in the tea were still present in a synthesized form. The issue was, their only patient, (and therefor test subject) wasn’t on the ship to start a trial.

“We still have no idea if it’s better ingested or injected,” M’Benga mused one afternoon. They’d been running their own algorithms on the synthesized treatment trying to predict how it would react in a body.

“And then we have to worry if Sulu’s plants will work. I haven’t heard from him in the past day. Know of any updates?”

M’Benga shrugged. “I’m sure if the plants sprouted we’d have a very happy father on our hands.”

* * *

Kirk sat at his usual table in the cafe. He was homesick. While Spock was still the largest part of what he considered his family, he still missed his crew. He missed The Enterprise. He missed traveling to far off worlds meeting people who wanted to meet him. He even missed those times where he’d have to pretend he was dad and babysit everyone.

He hoped his crew were fairing well without them. Obviously they were because they played the long con with Paris, but he hoped they succeeded in Kirk’s next phase of his plan.

Spock came into the shop with his bag on his back. He held Jim’s at his side. “We must leave quickly and discretely.”

Kirk nodded and walked up to the counter. “Mai?”

She appeared holding a few dishes she was drying.

“Thank you for everything. Please tell Tor I’m thankful for him, and I hope he gets better and out of the hospital soon.”

Her solemn nod was all Kirk needed to see.

They both layered an extra mask over their faces. It was brutally cold and windy.

He hated it.

It was like being trapped. Being trapped and choked. Like a bellow that had its air forced out and kept clamped. Kirk held on to Spock’s arm for his own reassurance, but he needed to cling on to make sure that he’d continue walking despite the deep pain in his ribs.

“Why discrete?”

“I’ve been informed that there may have been a variant of the disease purposefully introduced.”

Spock gripped Kirk’s hands firmly and brought them up to his own head. _“You can hear me?”_

It wasn’t quite a meld, but it was a link between the two minds. Kirk nodded.

 _“Please Jim,”_ Spock continued kissing the human’s forehead. _“Use that inner monologue our species thinks with. Use it to speak with me. It is much safer.”_

_“Alright.”_

_“I am merely comforting you right now. That’s all they see. My kissing you because you are in pain. There is no lie there. However they cannot tell from looking at us that I am telling you to remain very calm. Our friends in the social works offices have become more aware of their situation and are planning a coup. It will commence once this last freighter to Osum leaves.”_

_“They’re attempting a coup? We should-“_

_“Jim, we are helping by leaving.”_

_“This is their fight.”_

_“Precisely. And we’ve done enough to instigate it.”_

_“We must return to Osum and to our shuttle craft before Miordi considers the possibility that you are involved.”_

_“Because once they assume I’ve come back to fuck with them…”_

_“They will come for The Enterprise.”_

* * *

M’Benga predicted it. Sulu was running through the halls. A proud father to a bunch of newly sprouting plants. For what seemed like years there was true joy in the halls of The Enterprise.

“Guys! Guys we’ve done it! Give it a few more weeks, we should have all these little buggers at full maturity!”

Scotty ordered a meeting between the department officers. To be honest, it was more like an end of the year party at school. There was plenty of food and drink and plenty of discussion to go along with it. For every plate of food, there was a presentation waiting to be made.

Sulu brought up some slides. He documented his entire process with photos along with the proper Starfleet protocols.

“I took the advice from the ‘Huckleberry Debacle’ documents and all of these little guys just started shooting up. I really think that in the future we can get them to grow at an exponential rate, yielding larger crops.”

McCoy nodded. “We’re going to need an ample supply to keep running trials. When we finally get to test them.”

“You think they’re doing okay,” Chekov asked.

“Paris hasn’t bothered us again, so they must be alright.”

Scotty swirled his glass of scotch. “Funny how a random lad on a so-called lost planet can get a message to them, yet when I tried…”

“Don’t take it hard Scotty,” Uhura reassured him. “They wanted an extra layer of protection. The liaison method was our only choice.”

“I guess I simply just miss our friends.”

“They’ll be back soon. They have to, cause in 3 days they’ll be AWOL,” Sulu frowned.

The officers all looked out at the stars hanging in space, suddenly realizing how close they were to losing their friends and the best damn commanding officers in the fleet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was reminding myself a little bit of huckleberries (the greatest fruit in the whole world) and I looked at the scientific name of its genus. VACCINIUM? 2021 is the year of the vaccine; I swear this was so unintentional. 
> 
> Anyways, I am always so glad for the people who read this and leave comments and I hope this weird af story is doing something for y'all. I'm hoping to wrap this thing up on the date I stopped breathing and thinking like a normal human being (March 16).


	14. Plot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I will never forget the people who helped me through this hell. I will never forget the people who needlessly died. I will fight for you. Even if I end up in prison.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mostly setting things up for the end game here. Introducing a trek trope that every away mission story has to have when the boys are hopelessly in love. 
> 
> I fought myself through this entire dumb chapter not to use the phrase "We'll always have Paris" in any shape or form, but god damn did I want to.

A freighter wasn’t designed for passengers. There were few rooms to accommodate guests, and when they weren’t being used by a crewman’s family member, they were used for more storage. Kirk spent most of the journey back to Osum lying on the floor of the deck where the crew slept, his bag was a pillow.

It was the cold that drained him yet again. It was walking through the crowded hallways to the mess for food and then back again that sucked all of his energy away. Spock would lie next to him for comfort and warmth, at first trying to make conversation.

“I’d rather not talk. It hurts.”

So then Spock tried initiating that link once more.

“I’m exhausted.”

He tried melding with Kirk fully, but it wasn’t an exaggeration. He was just too tired to function. Fine in the morning and an hour later he’d fall asleep again.

Spock continued to have an illogical one-sided conversation with Kirk. Keeping company as the humans referred to it. He even started bringing Kirk’s meals to him.

“I know this has been entirely illogical of me,” Spock was sitting next to Kirk who’d been sitting up against the wall reading a book one of the freighter’s crew members lent him.

He simply nodded, giving Spock that cheeky grin.

“So you’re not willing to fight off my actions?”

Kirk shook his head and leaned against Spock’s arm.

“Our intentions are still to leave Osum as soon as we arrive,” Spock sighed. “However, I feel as though we need to replenish your blood oxygen levels before we proceed.”

“Spock,” Kirk started.

“I am advising you as your first officer. Fresh air in a climate better suited for you. Your body cannot take this cold or this recycled air much longer.”

Spock wrapped his arm around Kirk, absently tracing and tapping his psi points. Flickers of warmth flowed through them both.

“Any prominence to this?” Kirk smiled. He finally closed his book.

“Do you not like it? I will stop if you don’t.”

“It’s oddly comforting.”

The Vulcan grunted in agreement. “I’m unsure if there is a word for this. I purely wanted to see what would happen.”

“Feels like we’d already have to be close for it to work.”

“We’ve melded enough times, there’s bound to be some sort of a link established.”

Kirk yawned, sinking ever more into Spock. He laid his hand across his waist. His mind drifting in and out of sleep to the timing of Spock’s breath.

After a long while Kirk stirred awake once more. The flickering stopped, that stopped a while ago as Spock fell asleep an hour after. He watched and wondered if Vulcans dreamed. Then again if the theory about dreaming and processing information was correct, then Spock surely would have incredibly vivid dreams. His brain was just too powerful not to cool down once in a while.

And he wondered how many of those dreams involved him. A little selfish he admitted, but he hoped Spock dreamed about him as much as he.

_“I could spend the rest of my life like this.”_

* * *

The hemisphere of Osum they landed on was in their spring period. The blossoms on the trees were falling as the sprinkle of rain fell to the ground. Light puddles appeared reflecting occasional lightning bolts. It was warm, but the rain was cool. Kirk reveled in the air he could finally breathe.

“Amazing how just being in the warm air has made me feel so much better,” he looked up at the sky letting the droplets hit his face. It was refreshing. Kirk relented to Spock’s request right as they stepped off the freighter.

“You look much better,” Spock observed. “Even more so when we can remove these disguises.”

Kirk turned around, he continued walking backwards. “Yeah it’s been a bit since I told you I miss seeing your pointed ears. I miss our ship and our family.”

He raised a brow. “Our family?”

Spock never saw such a beautiful smile spread across Kirk’s face.

“Yup. Our family. I hope they found success with that crate we sent them.”

The Vulcan, momentarily confused, realized what Kirk meant by family. It was the bridge officers he watched movies with. The people whom he worked with and took meals with, and playfully chided every chance he got while they did the same in return. Kirk established such a good report with these people that one moment the group of bridge officers could function professionally, but immediately devolve into what Spock thought was disrespectful sarcasm and insults. It’s what made Kirk a brilliant captain.

Humans, finding family anywhere in the universe. Spock thought it was admirable, but never considered the people he worked with as family. They weren’t related by blood. Yet, these people spent more time discussing topics of interest. They gifted him things for his birthday or for whatever Earth holiday was circling the ship. They spent more time creating music and spending time with him than his blood family ever did. 

“I suppose they are my family as well,” he thought.

Kirk grabbed his hands, pulling Spock down the sidewalk. They were reaching the outer skirts of the shopping district. More people were walking along, trying to live life despite knowing they lived on a potentially doomed planet.

They were on their way to their hidden shuttle craft when a couple of blows to their heads brought them down to the ground. It was black in seconds.

* * *

Kirk woke up with a throbbing headache. His vision was blurry but he could at least make out that he was in a holding cell of some sort. It wasn’t like in old movies or tv shows where everything was cement and poorly taken care of. This room was carpeted, scratchy blue fabric that scraped across his skin as he sat up. There was a lamp in the corner, softly highlighting the cream colored walls. A plain black couch, a matching chair, and a coffee table to complete the set.

Next to him lied Spock. No longer disguised. His pointed ears and angled eyebrows were both welcomed and worrying.

“Spock,” he whispered leaning in close. “Spock, wake up.”

“He won’t wake for a while.”

The voice startled him. Kirk scrambled to his feet backing towards the wall. When he saw the familiar figure standing at the door he shook his head.

“Trugo?”

The small man who helped Kirk and Spock get to Ifcusum stood wringing his hands together. He shook his head.

“I am so sorry. My hands are tied. I cannot do anything about it.”

“What’s been happening here?”

Trugo frowned. “Miordi discovered our planet. They’ve been patrolling our space ever since. They’re threatening my people, captain. Call me weak, anything you like. I simply could not hold on to your secret.”

Kirk slumped against the wall. This was it then. He was captured and he was inevitably going back to Miordi. No doubt he’d be held prisoner for life, or maybe at this point the government was so sick of him he’d be executed. As for Spock, he wasn’t sure about his fate.

“What’s going to happen to us?”

The man’s eyes shifted around the room. Clearly he was nervous and coerced into this conversation. Kirk was trying his best to observe every little detail. Maybe that’s why Spock wasn’t awake. They knew Kirk was still mentally struggling; he wasn’t allowed help.

“You’re political prisoners. Fortunately we treat political prisoners with respect. We’ve reversed your disguises so your own government can identify you.” Trugo grabbed the doorknob, before leaving he shook his head in disappointment. “I am so sorry about this. I promise, you will be treated fairly. Food will be available promptly at sun down. You will dine in the presence of security.”

Kirk listened for the deadbolt. He sighed, sliding down the wall.

“Spock,” he cried. “Spock?”

Only silence answered him back.

* * *

It took the better part of a week, but Admiral Paris was finally in transporter range. When they called The Enterprise to alert them of a surprise visit, the crew nearly collapsed on itself.

“I am not here to make villains of this ship,” they went on to say. “I reviewed the records of nearly every person close to Captain Kirk and I am here to lend some help.”

Scotty shook in his boots as he stood in the transporter room. The admiral, who had spent so many hours yelling at the entire crew, merely shook his hand and thanked him for his diligence. McCoy met them just outside in the corridor, and they walked to the greenhouse.

“Lieutenant Sulu has been working hard on these,” McCoy started. “See we have a treatment for people with this illness, but not for those who are like Kirk. But two planets, Osum and Ifcusum have treatments involving all of these plants and Miordi isn’t a fan of that fact.”

Paris scowled, “how do you know about that? I found nothing of the sort in your logs, doctor or in anybody’s.”

“We got a phone call,” Scotty interjected. “Two lovely lasses contacted us just yesterday.”

Scotty brought Paris to an empty conference room. He played back the conversation.

“You might want to play back the ending of their message, Mister Scott,” McCoy leaned in. “It’s an interesting development and times pretty well with your arrival.”

Paris steepled their fingers together listening to the conversation.

_“Your friends are on their way back, but they’re being followed. Please believe us when we tell you this is all planned.”_

_“Planned?”_

_“We plan to have them captured. Make them political prisoners. With that status your government HAS to answer. And your government will have to investigate. They’ll make Miordi reveal all.”_

_“How can we trust you? How?”_

_“Because they trusted us. They sought our hospitality and we gave it to them. I promise they won’t be harmed, while it’s a tyrannical government that has them captured, they’re in custody with friends. Contact your government and intervene. Please help us get our freedom back. Please help us end this pandemic.”_

Paris pushed themselves away from the desk. “It will take 48 hours for an answer at the least. I will relay a message. In the meantime Commander Scott, please make headway for Osum. I haven’t played negotiator for a while. I think it’s due time.”

* * *

Spock paced around the room. He’d been contemplating for 2.87 hours. He hardly said anything important. It was all drivel. It was driving Kirk mad.

“You gotta say something to me.” He felt terribly alone. “We’ve been here for days, you haven’t said anything to me other than asking me if I’m okay.”

He stopped pacing and stared at Kirk who was sitting on the couch. His elbows on his knees. A permanent frown splayed on his face. Spock wanted to speak, he wanted to do nothing but comfort his significant other, to quell the worry coming from his captain. He was wondering if the brief walk gave Kirk enough fresh air to reset his mind.

Spock couldn’t chance speaking aloud.

Kneeling before Kirk, he carefully pulled his hands away from his head. They were cold. Come to think of it, Kirk’s hands were always cold. Spock always wondered how he delt with that. He shook the thought from his mind. He held Kirk’s head in his hands and kissed him.

Spock wasn’t one for deep passionate kisses. The ones they shared barely cut the surface. Yet this one Spock asked for those parted lips. Kirk tried to push away wondering what could have provoked such an unexpected act. They were locked up, and all Spock wanted to do was make out?

Before Kirk could protest further, Spock’s fingers glided over his temples.

_“Please hear me.”_

Kirk’s eyes widened. He could hear sheer unrestrained desperation in his mind.

_“Please don’t react negatively. Reciprocate. Please.”_

He leaned into Spock, caressing the man in front of him.

_“They can’t know I am telepathic. We cannot speak about our situation verbally. I am worried your mind is still weak. Listen to me.”_

If anyone walked in on them they’d be witnessing two men sharing a kiss filled with longing and anguish.

_“I will not let anything happen to you. Trust me, Jim. Trust me like you did when you were huddled on the floor of your quarters trying to breathe.”_

“Okay,” was all Kirk could manage. Not enough fresh air for his shuttered body.

“I love you,” Spock whispered as he pulled away.

There wasn’t a chronometer in the room. The two didn’t know how many hours passed. They could rely on their own internal clocks, but that was the funny thing about space travel. Federation Standard was what they were used to. All based on Earth’s solar travels around Sol. Four hours there could easily be 40 minutes somewhere else.

Kirk took Spock’s disturbing warning seriously. He spoke nothing about their situation. Spock would occasionally kiss him, once again establishing mental contact. Kirk would be a liar if he said he didn’t enjoy the make out sessions, but he hated seeing Spock seem so out of character.

 _“I wish I could make this mental contact permanent,”_ he let slip. This was shortly before their mid-day meal.

_“Can you?”_

_“You’re starved of oxygen. It couldn’t happen. And it would imply a multitude of things in the Vulcan culture that you aren’t aware.”_

Kirk didn’t want to press. _“Okay.”_

He pulled away, staring at those beautiful eyes. Despite how logical it was to keep the human far from the truth, Spock wished he could reveal the truth behind their capture.

Vulcans were actually very good liars.

* * *

The Miordi Ambassador didn’t like making long distance trips, but when she received a call from the missing planet, Osum, her previous stance vanished. She was thrilled to make a personal trip to confront once again the pesky human who had caused her so much grief.

She was close to her ultimate goal: gaining control over every planet in the system and claiming top authority for each of their governments. She was so damned close.

Little did she know that a social worker and a barista would be waiting in the shadows for her ships and personal security to leave so they could slink on in to Miordi’s halls of justice and stake their claim for the free peoples of Miordi, Liordi, Osum, and Ifcusum. They’d sit quietly in those halls, letting Miss Thyra of Miordi play her game while Spock and Kirk’s federation made a complete ass of her.

And once the ass-handing ended, she’d come back to nothing.

Ambassador Thyra spent her entire trip to Osum contemplating just how satisfying it would be for her to finally cart off that silly ship’s captain. He’d be touted as her trophy, as an example to her people what would happen to those who betrayed her trust: They’d die alone and completely forgotten. Trugo’s words kept singing in her ears. “We’ve got them,” he said.

Oh she was so pleased.

Once her transport reached Osum, she hailed the little planet for their dedication to the safety and well-being of the sector. Trugo believed nothing of her words, he knew she still wanted the rock to fling off into space, but for the time being he faked a smile and led the ambassador to the room Kirk and Spock occupied.

She walked in unannounced.

“You,” he muttered.

“Hello again, my dear. How are you?” She looked him right in the eyes. Unlike their last meeting, Thyra saw the effects. Kirk was pale, and his eyes were just the same as every other long hauler’s on these outer planets.

“How delightful,” she added. “It’s all starting to come together for me. You know Captain, I might just now be lenient on you considering your condition.”

Kirk got up from his spot on the couch. He curled his hands into fists. “I don’t want your pity. I don’t want to speak with you. I won’t speak with you.”

She looked down on him, then over to Spock. “Well then, won’t this fascinating creature speak to me?”

Spock tilted his head. “Absolutely not. We are well aware of our rights as political prisoners. I suggest you return where you came from and allow us to confer with our government when they arrive.”

He waltzed closer to the ambassador who leaned away from him.

“And do not ever refer to me as a creature. I am a sentient being with far greater reach in this galaxy than you can wrap your head around.”

Thyra stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her. Kirk flashed a smile.

“Did you really just threaten a dignitary on the premise that your dad is one too?”

Spock’s eyes widened just the slightest, a hint of green flashed across his face. He stared at the human he longed to touch minds with, a beautiful smile and a glimmer in his eyes.

“Do not ever mention this to Doctor McCoy.”

Kirk laughed, pulling him into a kiss that was not a facade for their communication.

* * *

“You expect me to believe all this bullshit,” Paris smirked. They were seated across a table from Ambassador Thyra. The two glared at each other, rarely entertaining an emotion other than “annoyance.”

It was a sight to behold, the two negotiators’ outfits mirrored each other. Paris dawned the uniform, structured and perfectly fit, whereas Thyra’s shawls flowed with her every movement. Grey and Red. Red and Grey.

“It’s the truth.”

“Funny how your truth benefits only yourself,” Paris frowned. “You’re telling me that this Olgorum was a threat? So it had to be completely destroyed? You had every ability to close borders. Do you not understand what a fucking embargo is? Actually wait you do, because my sources are telling me that you’ve got one going on right now.”

When Paris said they wanted to know the situation that The Enterprise had gotten into and subsequently Kirk’s illness, they didn’t stop at the logs. They delved deep into all the records that Olgorum sent the ship, studied up on the solar system’s politics, and embraced wholly the entire system’s socio-economy. It’s why Paris was Kirk’s commanding officer. They went beyond the call of duty, a most needed asset for a ship exploring new worlds in deep space.

Thyra raised a brow. “And what do you really know about Olgorum? I told this to your dumb little captain. They spread a disease. They willingly got others sick. We were doing justice by eradicating them.”

“Killing innocents and putting this planet in danger. Say it loud and clear for everyone in the back, Ambassador Thyra, you’re a murderer. A cold blooded murderer. Now if you excuse me, I need to identify the prisoners.”

Paris left the room. Thyra clenched her fists while still seated at the rather large table in the main hall of Osum’s capital building. She spat in the admiral’s direction.

* * *

“That’s them alright. Captain James T. Kirk and Commander Spock of the Federation Starship Enterprise,” Paris sighed as they looked through the glass, “may I speak with them?”

Trugo nodded and unlocked the door. Kirk looked up at the admiral and dropped his shoulders.

“You here to start yelling at me in person?”

Spock caught the look of shock that flashed across the admiral’s face.

“Kirk, look at me.”

The captain looked back up at Paris. They were transfixed on Kirk’s eyes. Nothing in McCoy’s logs detailed this symptom. The irises bleeding into the whites, the look. That nameless look that brought it altogether.

“Jesus Christ, Jim.”

He knew what Paris was focusing on. Just as he did when he and Spock first arrived on Ifcusum. “Yeah. Don’t worry, you can only see it on planets with the same type of light scattering … we think.”

Paris glanced at Spock, making sure he didn’t have the same look. He focused back on Kirk.

“The captain has been sick for 358 Earth days,” Spock noted.

Kirk leaned back, that paradoxical shudder ran through his body. Paris winced at the sight.

“And thousands more are like this?”

Kirk nodded. “Who knows, maybe a billion across the system. A small population. But then you start to think about it. I’m sick. I’m the captain of Starfleet’s flagship. I’m the one you send out on important missions because you trust me to handle it.

“A small population with so many people with important jobs to be done.”

Paris nodded. “You’re quite a sight, Jim. I would like to offer my apologies. Sometimes sitting in that command position really deteriorates your sympathy.”

Kirk never expected to hear an apology from anyone on the brass side of Starfleet. But he fully understood it. Some days he found it hard to grasp onto his sympathy for the newbies on his ship. And while everyone wanted everything ideal at all times, that was an impossibility. A good commander had the ability to step back and realize their demands could not always be met, or be met perfectly.

“Feeling like getting the job done is what’s more important.” Kirk sighed. “I may have needed to consult with you more on the matter.”

“You should have, yes.”

“Excuse the intrusion,” Spock clasped his hands behind his back, “but what is the current state of affairs, admiral?”

They ran a hand through their hair. “That ambassador is a fucking idiot. A cold blooded murderer. A sociopath. But that’s utilizing my psychology degree from years past. Since I was already here to make a visit, the message I relayed to The Federation diplomacy wing was met with hesitation. But they’re giving me the ability to take on this matter, and will support any decisions I make regarding this sector. Once the immediate issues are tackled, then they will review the issue for a long-term solution.”

“Most promising.”

“I’ll be clear with you two, I don’t recognize her authority over these other celestial bodies. She may be in charge over on Miordi, but that hardly gives her the right to act anywhere else. At least I haven’t found anything in historical records that would give her that power.”

Kirk grinned, satisfied that the admiral was thinking the same things over. “You’re an expert on the solar system now?”

“Don’t push it, Kirk. I may agree with you, but I’m still slightly miffed you went AWOL.”

It wiped the smug look off Kirk’s face. Admittedly, they weren’t AWOL on paper, but he understood.

“Admiral, can you secure a private place for you and I to speak?”

Kirk looked up at Spock. Why would he need to speak to Paris alone?

“I can make that happen.”

“Thank you. I need it to be absolutely private. No onlookers or listeners of the sort.”

Paris explained to the two what would be expected of them. No funny business as Kirk responded in assurance. The admiral would declare that the prisoners are who they are and that Thyra was not a recognized authority figure. He detailed plans where he’d gather the other ambassadors of each planet and discus the matter further, not only for Kirk and Spock’s freedom, but for the ongoing pandemic.

“Oh, and before I forget. Doctor McCoy wanted me to give you this, Jim.” They held out a hypospray. “It’s a synthesized version of that tea you talked about in that crate you sent.”

Kirk took the hypo. When the admiral left, he injected its contents.

Spock awaited for a response. “Jim?”

He closed his eyes, feeling relaxed for the first time in months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't make Admiral Paris the bad guy in this, I can't. My IRL boss has been too kind to me, while still having to please their own overlords. 
> 
> I will also say this, I physically cannot breathe in -20F degree weather. Just. Nope. It doesn't work. KN95 + double layered fabric masks only helped a little and I was just constantly done. Winter is just really really hard. I've had no energy to do anything remotely active for the past 2 months. It's driving me up a wall. I crave to take walks or lift my silly little 10 pound dumb bells (compared to the 20s I used to do). I just have NO energy. It's all just a shell where I'm working at my bare minimum. 
> 
> Only now that the weather has gotten warmer can I do more than just go to work and then come home and sleep.


	15. Look at Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feeling invisible. Neglected. You can't ignore me for long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay I might be making the allusions to the shitty US government a little too obvious in this chapter.

Spock met with Paris alone in the capitol building’s atrium. Trugo demanded the area be evacuated and locked down for the encounter to take place. The action reminded Spock of Isha who before finally parting ways for the final time told him “You have friends all over the place. They will protect you.”

And Spock was not unfamiliar with secret networks of people sending messages and planning for revolution. In fact he was asked to be secretary of one of these networks at the Academy. Albeit, it wasn’t political revolution the group was invested in, but their cause for equity was admirable and thus logically sound for him to help.

He never told Kirk that he secretly met Isha and Mai. While Kirk and Paris were batting heads, Spock was underground in a room filled with social and front line workers. They were willing to risk it all, plan and execute a coup on Miordi’s ambassador. An idea that was years in the making. Now was just the time for it to come to fruition.

They told him that in order for the plan to work, it would be best if the two were caught. Thus Spock concluded that he and Kirk prolong their stay on Osum. He knew this extensive network of revolutionaries were waiting for the right circumstances, he might as well give it to them.

Kirk just couldn’t know. His emotional outbursts, his unending drive to save other people from his own personal hell was his power. He could manipulate and coerce. This aspect put Spock in deep reflection. Every time his lover was asleep, he’d stare at the man’s golden skin and wonder.

“Would I have been this accepting of his emotions two years ago? Even a year? Would I have been able to ascertain the fact that emotions can be useful? That they hold as much power as logic?”

Paris grinned wildly at the news Spock was aware of said coup. It was a grin reserved only for missions of his that went according to plan right down to the millisecond.

“So it stands. We’re here in this hall to provide enough time for them and then hopefully make every dignitary question their values and morals when Miss High Priestess Thyra explains her choices.”

“While I’m aware it’s a joke Admiral, I believe calling her ‘high priestess’ is giving her too much credit. I’d borrow a phrase from my human counterparts: ‘Shit-for-brains.’”

The admiral gave Spock a hearty laugh in return. Mostly for the fact that he never truly got to talk with Spock on this kind of level. He really needed to shut down this idea that Vulcans had zero personality.

* * *

McCoy was allowed a visit since it was purely medical. While Trugo could easily have Osum’s top viral medical staff attend to Kirk, he looked the other way. It was also just another attempt to secure more medical information as well.

Kirk virtually leaped into McCoy’s arms for an embrace. It had been so long since he’d seen his friend. Life was so much better sitting in his office drinking brandy together, mouthing off about their troubles.

“Fuck, how’ve you been?”

McCoy smiled. “Stressed since you sent that crate of plants to us. You know what I found out, Jim? I found out that Geoff and I share the same disgusting passion for old Earth television series.”

“Oh yeah,” Kirk laughed, “Have you made your way through Firefly? It’s a western. In space!”

“You think I’m gonna watch a show about cowboys in space when I live with a bunch of them?” McCoy rolled his eyes and pulled out his tricorder. “I wish this could be a visit for pleasure, not work. But I gotta at least take some readings or they might start tightening security on you.”

The tricorder buzzed and beeped taking Kirk’s readings. McCoy let all familiarity in his face drop; he was in total work mode at this point.

“How did that hypo work out?”

“I think it works better than the tea. But then again there’s something about actually drinking the tea that just,” Kirk paused trying to find the right word, “spreads warmth throughout the whole body. I don’t get that from the hypo. So I mean, the symptoms get treated but—“

“But not the comfort? Like being fed medicine without grandma’s famous chicken noodle that lets you know someone cares deeply for you?”

Kirk’s eyes twinkled at the thought. “Precisely.”

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to drink that stuff while being hypo’d with it.” McCoy looked at his padd, noting some of the changes in Kirk’s readings.

“Jim, how were you getting by? You didn’t have any of your medicine with you.”

“I wish I had it on me.” He tugged on his shirt, “I really wish. I-I barely got by. Sleeping at every chance I got. Constant exhaustion. The air was just too cold to function.”

The doctor nodded. Anecdotal evidence meeting the hard facts of his tricorder readings. “You know what silent hypoxia is, right?”

Kirk’s eyes widened. He shut them tight. “Don’t make me scared to fall asleep again. Please.”

“I just want you to be careful, Jim. Just because this all looks and acts like asthma still doesn’t mean you’re out of the thick of things.” He held out his padd. “Your body is showing signs of depleted oxygen levels. I need you to keep getting as much fresh air as possible. And once we get back…until we can really get this thing all sorted out, I might have to put you on hyperbaric oxygen therapy.”

“The fuck is that?”

“You get forced into a tube filled with pure oxygen.”

Kirk’s jaw dropped ever so slightly. The idea of pure oxygen pumping through his body was like staring at a Thanksgiving dinner ready to be devoured. “C-can I just do that for fun?”

It highlighted just how desperate Kirk was to get better. McCoy wanted to yell at Jim ten times over for this whole plot to save this solar system, but knowing there were millions of people just like him distressed the doctor. They were all desperate. All desperate for it to end. He couldn’t yell at a guy for wanting to cure himself and everyone like him.

All the while McCoy could not keep his curiosity away from Kirk’s eyes. With the new medical information that came to him he was shocked to finally see it. He wondered where else the long hauler trademark could be seen. What if Earth was one of those places?

“Jim?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re one hell of a strong person.”

* * *

One large rotunda. One beast of an HVAC system. Five ambassadors. Witnesses in the galley. For the past four hours, they were putting pressure on Ambassador Thyra. She had to explain in detail what her plans were leading up to the destruction of Olgorum.

“I was sitting in my office reviewing all of the information my medical advisers were giving me. Many of the strains on my planet were originating from Olgorum. We all know that’s where the Olgorvirus started. Hence the name!”

Liordi’s ambassador, Kustaa, laughed. “Thyra, YOU named it that. The rest of us have been calling it the Spíkvirus.”

She flashed a glare across the large rounded table. “May I remind the ambassadors that Kustaa agreed to destroy Olgorum.”

He glared back. “May I remind the ambassadors that I rescinded my decision when I learned why it was to be done. You didn’t make it very clear at the outset. You approached me claiming Olgorum was a security threat. Just because their idiot government couldn’t control a virus didn’t mean they were a risk in security. I believe it is the Federation representative that made it clear in his statements that you could have enacted the same procedures the rest of us made.”

“They were INDEED a threat, Kustaa.” Thyra flared her nostrils. “I will not tolerate this.”

“What? The truth?” The ambassador from Ifcusum, Sassa, spoke up. “You’ve been trying to run a shadow government on my planet since Osum’s orbit was disrupted. I’m fighting with my own colleagues. I should be fighting this pandemic. I’d like to submit evidence, by the way.”

As the outsider, Admiral Paris was the acting judge on the matter. They tilted their head. “I’d love to see it.”

Sassa forwarded data to Paris’ computer. “This shows explicitly that a new mutation was introduced on my planet three weeks ago. It’s in congruence with new measures I passed to make sure people were staying safe. Obviously to undermine my authority and set in place Thyra’s shadow government.”

Paris reviewed the data. It was impressive what Sassa was able to uncover about Thyra’s movements. Paris almost felt like they were back in high school, all of their friends sitting at the lunch table, pretending to like each other.

And always plotting to stab each other in the back.

“I’ll allow this evidence. Anything to say Ambassador Thyra?”

She blushed, knowing she was caught. Sassa had the documents she Thought she had destroyed.

“I relent any further argument on the matter.”

Seven hours of this. Constant bickering between dignitaries. If Admiral Paris didn’t know any better they thought they were sitting in on a holoplay of the very first days of The Federation. Archer and the Vulcans. Archer and the Andorians. Archer and everyone trying to fight each other on the most basic concepts before there was common ground. That’s what these people needed. They needed common ground.

“If it’d please everyone,” Paris began, “I have an argument I’d like to make.”

He waited for them all to allow it.

“I sent a ship from my government out to this solar system because we had stories of its people and its resources. We learned about the weirdness and the quite beautiful aspects of our galaxy you live in. Now as an outsider, I can’t fully comment on the intricacies of your planet dynamics, but can I make a suggestion?”

The ambassadors nodded, shrugged, tilted their heads, or in Thyra’s case: scoffed.

“This pandemic is providing you with an ample opportunity to find a common cause. Why not band together to fight it? Instead of being separate, why not act as a whole? You seemed to have done that when you banished my representative. I have the document in front of me. All of you, aside from Osum, agreed. The Enterprise must leave and never return. So where is that camaraderie now? Why can’t you all understand that there are millions of people just like him,” they pointed at Kirk who was sitting in the front row of the galley, “and that you all could band together for a cure?”

Paris was trying to illicit a response from Thyra. They knew she wanted power and was playing that game with fervor. Her mouth twitched, her fingers drummed on the white marble, she wanted Paris to shut up.

“As for my evidence, I want James Kirk to tell all of you what he and people like him are going through.”

All eyes turned to Kirk.

“I don’t…I don’t think I can do anything.”

Paris pursed their lips. Of all the years they knew Jim Kirk, he wasn’t one to back down when put on the spot. But it just proved the admiral's point further; this disease, whatever the hell it was, destroyed the man they once knew. It warped his mind, but hopefully not his soul.

“I…you see it in my eyes. You see it.” James shut them, trying to compose his mind. “I know you see it, because none of you can look me in the face.”

He opened his eyes once more and gazed at the ambassadors who were looking down at the table or twisted their heads to the side or looked up at the ceiling feigning contemplation.

“I want each and every one of you to look me in the eyes and confess to me. Confess that none of you give one shit about me or the people who are like me. All you’re griping about are politics. You destroy planets like chess pieces. You withhold medicine from the sick and dying. Look me in the eye and tell me you want this pandemic to end. I have some news for you all, it won’t end. It won’t end when the disease is gone. It won’t end until every last long hauler is cared for.

“While you continue to bicker and fight about issues that plagued my own planet for millennia, there are people who have no idea if their planet will go rogue. There are people on a fucking ice planet right now who are struggling to find sufficient treatment. Your incompetence is driving good people to illegal activities, which I full well support! If I have to I’ll openly commit piracy if it means getting healthcare to the people you’re all neglecting! For fuck’s sake you all STILL can’t look at me!”

Kirk jumped the barrier and approached the table. The ambassadors stood up, trying to back away wondering what this human was going to do. Paris merely stood by.

“Look at me! Just fucking look at me! Stop living in denial and fucking look at what all of you are doing to each other!” He spun around facing the galley. He saw them.

“There’s 17 of us in here. Out of the 60 in this room. Look at all 17 of these people and tell them that your balance of power games are all you care about.”

There was a stir in the galley. People looking around for the 17 people Kirk was talking about. It was a growing murmur, until one of them stood up.

A young woman with fiery red hair glared daggers at her leaders. She clenched her fists tightly, balling up the fabric of her sleeves.

“Look at me!” she screamed.

Another stood. A balding man with wooden glasses. “Look at me!”

Icy blue eyes. “Look at me and tell me you didn’t murder my entire family when you blew up Olgorum!”

All 17 were shouting at the ambassadors to look. Kirk smiled a wickedly. It was on the verge of joy, smugness, and even a bit of villainy.

“You’re going to let them yell at you until they all run out of breath, gasping for air?”

* * *

They might have been ship’s quarters, but they were his. He plopped down on his bunk and sighed heavily into the blankets. Finally he was able to get some rest in a familiar place without any worries. For the time being at least.

He was let go at the demands of the the 17 long-haulers. Trugo also demanded Kirk and Spock’s release considering the ship and its crew played a large part in originally helping the system combat the virus. Kirk smiled fondly as he remembered the short man declaring how it was their ship that created the foundation for long term treatment.

“Pleasant daydreams?”

Kirk opened his eyes watching his first officer cautiously enter his room. He smiled, waving the Vulcan over.

“I’m happy to be home,” he sighed happily. “To which of course you’re always welcome.”

Spock took his seat on the bed where Kirk wrapped an arm around his neck pulling him down into a kiss. “Thank you, by the way. I’m glad you came with me.”

“I’m…glad I came with you as well.”

They made themselves comfortable. Spock held Kirk in his arms, their legs intertwining. The two had the rest of the afternoon off, at the admiral’s request. Kirk enjoyed the fact he could lie in Spock’s arms, only enjoying his embrace. He took in that silky smooth skin, his scent, his soft hair.

Kirk rolled Spock onto his back. He grinned and held Spock’s face. “Bones said that once my oxygen levels come back up and stay put I should be able to go back to my normal duties.” He planted a kiss on the Vulcan’s lips. “And I assume that also means I should be strong enough to meld with you again.”

Those dark eyes softened. “I will look forward to the day. I never said so Jim, but you have a marvelous mind. I’d hate for this disease to destroy it.”

“I hope it doesn’t.” Kirk grabbed onto Spock’s hands and kissed each of his fingers. “Now, if you don’t mind. I’d like to drag my tongue along every appendage you have.”

“Jim, you’ve only just recov-“

Kirk licked Spock’s fingers like they were candy. He sucked on his index fingers and slowly pulled them out of his mouth. Spock’s eyes were wide with pleasure and a bit of shock. It should not be so easy to connect with this human.

“Don’t worry Spock, it’ll feel much much better when I start licking your dick.”

This time, Spock didn’t dare stop him.

It was 02:00. Kirk awoke to the familiar chime. Someone was calling him. He tried climbing out of bed without waking Spock, but he tumbled out falling to the floor. He figured that would wake the Vulcan, but he didn’t stir.

_Shit I hope I didn’t kill him with all that emotional exposure I put him through._

Kirk scrambled to the com. “Kirk here,” he whispered.

“There’s an Isha Illadore waiting to speak to you,” an incredibly smart and intuitive ensign Colt, whispered back. “I know you’re still off duty, but she requested you specifically.”

“Punch it through. I’ll answer in a sec. Thanks, ensign.”

He pulled on a shirt that felt too small ( _must be Spock’s_ ), and walked to his office.

“Isha,” Kirk nearly wanted to yell in excitement, but he couldn’t possibly wake up his sleeping first officer. “How are you?”

Isha shrugged, “oh you know, living the dream. I just wanted to call and tell you thanks. If it weren’t for you and Spock our plans wouldn’t have worked.”

“Your plans?”

She grinned. “Miss Thyra, former Ambassador to Miordi has been formally charged with 4.3 billion counts of murder, obstruction of justice, fraud, and various other little things. Ambassador Kustaa is also charged with obstruction of justice and fraud. Ifcusum is free and we’re working with the new free people’s movement across our solar system to get Osum’s orbit stabilized.”

“Isha, we left for our ship two days ago. That’s a lot of stuff to get done.”

“Oh. He hasn’t told you yet. Look, we set up a coup and everything months before you were even on the planet. You just ended up being there at the right time.”

“You’re not the first person to tell me I’m good bait,” Kirk beamed. “And more good news, our amazing green-thumbed helmsman was able to grow the ingredients needed for the tea treatment. I’ll send you the details.”

“This will be greatly appreciated. And don’t be strangers to us, captain! Unlike Miordi and Olgorum we really do love visitors! Once this pandemic gets under control we want to welcome all of you. But for now, I’ll sign off. Please feel better soon.”

Kirk stared at the blank screen for a minute. He was truly happy about the news, but he was deeply bitter. At lease the people who died would get their justice, but where was the justice for the long haulers? What he wanted most was a cure for himself, not treatment. And while the tea and the hypos were fine, they didn’t keep Bones from forcing an oximeter on him at all times. He was still plenty sick.

“Maybe I’ll never get better, and I just have to accept that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's another universe out there where I would have written a chapter dedicated solely to this fun little shit show of a trial. But I am told that normal people do not enjoy going to meetings, or cover them for the local news or write minutes for them...ect ect.
> 
> Meanwhile I'm set up with my own oximeter to keep tabs on my levels throughout the day, especially since I'm back at the gym trying to retain myself to breathe while lifting weights. Apparently, your vision isn't supposed to dim or turn black after light weight training? WHO KNEW?! Just happy everyone at my gym wears masks and keeps to themselves. This is my only risky thing I do, I don't want it ruined.


	16. Okay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the end, I'm okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been sick with Long Covid for a year.
> 
> But I am so thankful I am alive.
> 
> On to more stories (less real world drama I swear) about these nerds.

His medical bracelet was chirping at him. He looked at the chronometer and back at the small group of people who were sitting down at the dinner table. Aside from the guests, two Vulcans, one Andorian, and four human colonists, Kirk was with Uhura and Sulu. The two lieutenants were bothering him so much lately about formal engagements he finally gave up.

“If you two want to dress up and pretend you care about what these people have to say, then fine,” he told them one night over a late cup of coffee. “I’ll just sit back and look pretty.”

“Is something the matter Kirk,” the Andorian asked.

He looked at the medical bracelet again and sighed. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m just a huge idiot and forgot about my medicine.” Kirk stood and gave the dinner party a firm nod. “I’m sure my friends Sulu and Uhura here can give you plenty of stories about traversing nebulae. Excuse me.”

It became so regular that he paid no attention to the fact he got weird looks as he jabbed himself with a hypo. Kirk would be on a typical away mission and if that stupid bracelet went off he’d stop and jab. Every six hours for the synthesized tea. Daily montelukast injections, and the inhaler if he really needed it. All regular parts of life.

He hated it.

But there were other parts of his life that changed within the year that he didn’t hate. Spock would always seem to find himself in Kirk’s bed at least four times a week. Bones and Geoffrey invited him over to watch tv and drink; unfortunately Kirk couldn’t handle much liquor anymore so he quickly switched over to tea. Uhura nagged him weekly about his relationship with Spock. Always wondering if they ever were going to go public with it.

Kirk still did everything to the best of his ability, even if he had to stop and catch his breath sometimes. Even if it meant that chasing after Klingons on foot while shooting off phasers brought him to tears because his lungs burned and ached mercilessly.

At first he tried hiding it, but then it became pointless. Hiding meant weakness, and that wasn’t what he wanted to show his crew. If his crew saw him gasping for air, then so be it. Because they’d also see him gasping for air and pushing through it, no matter how painful it is. And then there would be times he couldn’t push through, and he had to show his crew that he wasn’t some mad man bent on destroying himself.

It took a lot of trial and error to figure it all out.

He returned to the table where everyone looked at him. It didn’t matter. Let them think whatever they wanted. Kirk let his mind wander as the conversation turned from the pathetic small talk to the real reason they were sitting in a dimly lit restaurant. Klingons were causing problems, and they needed to figure out a short term solution so the powers that be could come up with a long term one.

Kirk had days where he couldn’t care about talking to others. His mind wasn’t up for listening and processing language. Even with a universal translator there were times when he still couldn’t figure out what anyone was telling him. He’d try and listen and then his mind went off into space; nothing filling the void, just the meaningless sounds around him.

Maybe he did need to take up Spock on meditation.

“Captain? Did you hear what I just said?”

Kirk blinked a few times. Of course he had absolutely no idea what was going on. He sat and listened but nothing retained. So he flashed that smile of his and apologized.

“Be patient with me. Brain isn’t working well today. If you could simplify that would be great.”

The Vulcan nodded and simplified their long-winded idea.

Thankfully, Kirk found a lot of people respected the challenges he faced. The news spread throughout Starfleet. Their most formidable captain on their most formidable ship succumbed to a wide array of disabilities. There was a lot of doubt within the first few months since Kirk returned from Osum. Then as he continued his duties, it didn’t seem to matter. If Kirk needed an extra hand, they’d give it, but only if he asked.

Which was rare.

He returned to his quarters late that night. After dinner and discussions he caught up on paperwork and rechecked duty rosters for the fifth time. Sulu and Uhura were put in charge formulating more ideas with all their guests’ input about the Klingon problems. It’d be interesting to see what they’d come up with.

Spock was waiting for him, just as he predicted. Kirk figured the Vulcan spent all day in the labs retooling every instrument and lecturing ensigns, just waiting for the moment Kirk returned to the ship.

“You were barely on the bridge at all today,” Kirk sat down across from Spock, their chess board set up. “What’s up?”

He blinked rapidly, a tell tale sign that Spock was thinking long and hard about something. Kirk was still pretty new at this, but he was starting to pick up the Vulcan’s very small flashes of emotion.

“I am considering asking…” Spock trailed off.

“Asking,” Kirk grinned, all eyes.

“Would you be averse to my spending every night here with you?”

“Are you asking to move in with me?” Kirk’s grin grew.

“Yes.”

“Please. You practically live here anyway.”

Spock nodded.

“What else? You’re moody.”

He stared at Kirk who moved his first piece. It was remarkable to see the resilience of the human body. He no longer had as many refined muscles in his arms and back, but Kirk was still able to engage in difficult physical situations if needed. He wasn’t as pale anymore, in fact he only lost color in his face if he was truly worn down, but that didn’t happen as much anymore. The luster in his hair returned, and thankfully his captain was truly learning what rest meant.

“It has been two years since you fell ill.”

Kirk realized Spock was silently asking if he was feeling any better. But they both knew the answer. It was the same. No change. Medicine made it manageable, but only that.

“Ah.” Kirk sighed. “Spock. Think about it like this. It’ll be two years since I first kissed you.”

“Yes, a much better memory.”

“I’d rather think about that.”

Spock moved his piece in response and they played their game.

* * *

Four months later, Kirk was on his way to the bridge for alpha shift. He already had a pleasant morning, Spock was all over him, and breakfast just seemed to be that much more appetizing. The two made eye contact briefly, while Uhura rolled her eyes knowing just how disgusting it was having to be in the middle of those two lovebirds. Just another eight hours of poorly shielded flirting while working with a bunch of other morons who aren’t smart enough to catch on.

She loved them all.

“Captain, you received a package.” Chekov looked at his padd which had an inventory list of items transported onto the ship. “It came in with our typical load and you’ll never guess where it came from.”

“Thanks, Pavel. I have to double check inventory anyway, I’ll get it when I’m down there.”

Chekov’s last sentence blew over Kirk’s mind. He had more important things to do at the moment, like reviewing the department heads during each of their weekly meetings; and updating Starfleet on their Klingon issue. Inventory can be double checked before end of shift.

“You sure, captain? I mean it’s from Ifcusum.”

Kirk was about to take his seat when Chekov revealed the location. He stumbled over himself and raced to the lift.

“I’ll check on that now, I guess. I’ll be back.” He looked at his entire bridge crew. “No shenanigans.”

“Aye captain,” they said in unison, as Spock raised a brow in response.

The Vulcan could feel the nervousness radiating from Kirk.

Kirk raced down to cargo bay one. The nervousness in his gut was swelling. The light of hope that burned out long ago reignited. Maybe, just maybe there was some good news. He still worried about Osum, he still worried about the political fate of this small solar system that if it weren’t for him probably would have collapsed into obscurity.

The bay was bustling with people unpacking items and transporting them to their proper places on the ship. He really liked breaking inventory into parts like this, having each department go through their loads individually and then consolidating it all at the end. He only switched to this method because the main list was too long for him to comprehend.

Kirk was starting to like information in bits and pieces.

He located where his package was amongst all the other personal orders that his crew took in. Looking at the stack it seemed like he was going to have to have a talk about what some people deemed necessary and what wasn’t.

That was definitely more scotch than what McCoy and Scotty needed.

The package was small but weighty. He grabbed it and made his way to one of the emptiest spots on the ship. At this time of day it was the observation lounge. In front of billions of stars he took a seat and felt the brown wrapping. He pulled gently on the twine, and neatly unfolded the paper.

In his hands was a deep dark wooden box. On top was a piece of paper. A note written in lavish swirls in beautiful blue ink read:

_James,_

_I hope this gets to you sooner rather than later. We spent a good deal of time testing the contents of the vial. While I feel as though you thought your trip to Hatschu was for naught, please don’t dwell on the thought further. Our friends were finally able to capture the Kogu and put their hypothesis to the test. We’re incredibly grateful to you, Spock, your crew, and that Admiral of yours for helping us. This is our thanks: A cure._

_Please inject it like you would any other. It’ll take 48 hours of Ifcusum time for it to work. We suggest you take it easy. All of our trials showed the recipients got a nasty fever. And yes, I’m sorry to say your breathing will get worse. But we promise once the fever breaks you’ll never have to feel as hallow and empty as you did._

_We also suggest continuing the tea regimen and a good counselor. You’ll be physically healthy, but this is for the psychological trauma. You will always bear the mark of the long hauler; I hope to god it’s not visible on your home planet. As a traveler, please be aware of it. Who knows, it could come in handy._

_From the deepest parts of my soul, I’m so thankful for you. As we say on Ifcusum: Hold the sun in your hands and let the light touch your darkest thoughts._

_Isha_

_Free Peoples Ifcusum_

Kirk gently opened the box. There was a vile of translucent liquid and a needle. He had to laugh because Bones was not a fan of using anything other than hypos, but to stay true to the results he had to administer the medicine just as they did on Ifcusum. He put the note gently inside the box and leaned back against the chair.

* * *

“How long is 48 hours Ifcusum time,” Kirk asked Spock. They were sitting in the mess hall taking in a late night snack while sifting through documents.

“Three and one half days,” Spock frowned.

Kirk grabbed onto Spock’s hand, “Hey I know everyone gets on you about expressing yourself, but you don’t actually need to frown. It’ll be okay. I’ll be okay.”

“It is still three and one half days too many that you’ll be suffering.”

“Bones will monitor me.”

Spock sighed.

“I can’t have you go off duty as well.”

“Jim.”

“Spock, no. I’ve been too lenient about us. With Klingons in this area, we need a truly experienced officer in command. I need you if things get tough.”

Kirk pulled his hand away. He went to the replicator and returned with two cups of tea.

“I need this Spock. And I need you more than anything. You know how much I need you personally, but you’re still my first officer.”

“This will not stop me from attending to you after my shifts.”

“I know.”

* * *

His fever peaked at 105, seven hours after the injection. McCoy kept constant watch during the day while M’Benga tended to patients and regular duties. Kirk’s fever was holding steady.

“Well look on the bright side of things Jim,” McCoy placed yet another ice pack on the man’s forehead, “you’ve finally got me to wait on you hand and foot.”

“Fuck you, Bones.” Kirk laughed weakly.

“You’re breathing okay, though?”

He nodded.

“Everything is so fucking hot though.”

“I’ll turn the temperature down, but because of your piss poor circulation I can’t do it for the entire duration of this. I’m not cutting off fingers.”

“If you have to though, save my middle ones.”

McCoy grumbled. “Get some rest. Spock will be here in a bit.”

Spock took the night shift. He refused to comply with Kirk’s requests to get sleep of his own. He settled next to Kirk on the biobed, holding him close. He’d wipe the sweat away from Kirk’s forehead and diligently applied ice packs where needed.

“Spock,” Kirk gasped. “Why are you here?”

He felt the change in Kirk’s breathing, becoming more shallow, so he did what McCoy told him to do and placed an oxygen mask over his mouth.

“Jim, I am here because I’d like to spend my entire life with you. It means I must see it through the best and worst times.” Spock brushed a thumb across Kirk’s cheekbone.

“Spock,” Kirk sighed. “Sounds like…you’re proposing.”

The Vulcan closed his eyes. He smiled thinking of it, them spending the rest of their days together. So yes, he’d accept that he just proposed to his captain. Then again he might as well say he never did such a thing and wait for the proper time when Kirk wasn’t struggling to maintain cohesive thought.

“Jim,” Spock grabbed Kirk’s hand. “Shut up.”

Kirk started to laugh. “Human expressions to keep the mood cheery?”

“Laughing is not shutting up. Would you like me to use the sedative McCoy supplied me with?”

“Mmmno.”

“Then focus on your breathing. And shut up. We still have two days of this.”

It was unbearable without Spock next to him. Despite his own body burning up, he needed Spock’s heat. He needed that damn lousy Vulcan officer of his to disobey orders and spend the rest of this hell with him in sickbay. The hum of the ship was louder by the minute, the ache permeated through his body.

Just as the disease began, he couldn’t sleep. The weight on his chest was too great to focus on anything else but remembering to take deep breaths. He lost all track of time, but only knew it was night because that’s when Spock would show up once more. Every time he laid eyes on those deep brown pools, they returned a shared pain. Kirk always gave Spock a weak grin.

He clutched onto his lover. He held onto him and gripped the fabric of his shirt as tight as he could. The tears broke from his eyes and streamed down his cheeks.

“Spock. It hurts. Please. Please make it stop. Please,” Kirk begged while Spock held him to his chest.

The wheezing finally rattled through Kirk’s chest and back. It disturbed Spock so much he decided he had to let Kirk sleep through the rest of it.

“I’m sorry, love.” He whispered as he administered the sedative. He just couldn’t stand to see Kirk suffer any longer.

* * *

There was a clarity Kirk didn’t think he’d ever have again. He opened his eyes and stared up at the wall. He figured he finally must have fallen asleep due to exhaustion. In fact, the more he thought about it, there was no longer any exhaustion left in his body. He finally felt awake and well rested.

He propped himself on his elbows and looked around. Nothing of note, except the fact that McCoy was reading something other than Kirk’s readings.

Kirk pulled off the oxygen mask. What a bizarre feeling. Breathing at full capacity? This is what it was supposed to feel like? No shuddering breath? Other than the fact he was drenched in sweat, he felt disturbingly…normal.

“Bones?”

McCoy looked up from his padd. He grinned. “Well shit, you’re finally awake. That was a doozy of a sedative.”

“Wait, Spock really gave me…?”

“He could not keep you awake through all of that, and I don’t blame him.” The doctor ran a tricorder over Kirk. All the readings were normal, all back to what they were before he got sick.

“So? Jim, how are you feeling?”

He fully sat up, expecting that weight on his chest to return, but it didn’t.

“I’m okay. I’m alive. And…I’m okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who followed this journey with me. Thank you for all the comments and discussion. Take this fic as a sick fic, or take it as social commentary, or however you like. I just hope it's made you aware of the silent disease that has destroyed people's livelihoods. My experience with Long Covid isn't nearly as bad as others'. Think of them too. Think of those who are bed ridden. Think of those who had to use a wheelchair for the first time in their lives. Think about all that plus the fact there's no clear reason WHY. 
> 
> I just really want everyone to be safe as they can be. I want you all to enjoy your lives for as long as possible to the fullest capabilities. I don't wish this on people. I truly don't. As bitter and as angry as I am because of all this, I really want to spread love and kindness.


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